


Among Other Things

by HPFandom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Bonding, M/M, Out of Character, Slash sex, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-15
Updated: 2007-12-25
Packaged: 2018-09-30 22:04:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 13
Words: 26,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10173335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HPFandom_archivist/pseuds/HPFandom_archivist
Summary: UPDATED!!! Discovering the extent of Dumbledore's manipulation, Harry runs away to find his true friends, family, and a better life. HPSS preslash, mentions of child abuse, Ron bashing. R&R!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter!

Chapter 1

It was the end of his fourth year when Harry Potter realized exactly what he had gotten himself into. With his mother’s green eyes and his father’s slim build and overly messy hair, the fourteen year old finally knew exactly what had been done to him and what, in the future, would be done to him by the wizarding world.

Beforehand, when he had been told that he was the savior of the wizarding world, the Boy-Who-Lived (ridiculous moniker, that one); he had thought that it was a meaningless title. The very idea that he had survived the killing curse, the most unforgivable of unforgivable curses had not meant anything to him.

In fact, he had wondered why the Wizarding World had focused its attention on him.

As he hid from his fame, being both loved and ridiculed by the press depending on the days he had come to realize that it was the Headmaster of Hogwarts who kept throwing him in the public eye.

Each test he faced made him more bitter, and by the dreadful end of the Triwizard Tournament, in which Cedric Diggory (a fellow champion) had died, he had wondered if his survival had been a fluke, an accident as the result of his mother’s sacrifice.

And, after being shoved on the train, while still in shock over the death of Cedric, he had come to realize how much the Wizarding World relied on him.

They relied on a child, the boy who had lived in a cupboard, to defeat the greatest and most feared Dark Lord in ages. It was ridiculous really, to expect a child to save the world for you after branding him an attention-seeking lunatic.

He wondered why he continued to try to please them. What did they really want him to do?

They changed their opinion of him so much, that he had given up on trying to figure out the best way to do the right thing while staying out of their way.

The headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, had said that it was best to not worry about anything but living up to his expectations.

But what were they?

There was something that the Headmaster was not telling him, and he wanted to know what it was.

In the meantime, however, while he was not needed Dumbledore just shoved him to the side to deal with his abhorrent relatives.

And as he lay in his dilapidated old bed, staring at the various cracks in the ceiling, he wondered what exactly the “all-knowing” old man would do if he just happened to disappear?

For that matter, what would the wizarding world do?

Taking a deep breath, Harry rolled over and quickly popped open his all-purpose loose floorboard to retrieve a piece of Honeydukes chocolate, his favorite snack. Dudley was, once again, on a diet, and he had been reduced to such meager portions that it was ridiculous.

It was a wonder that they were even trying to implement yet another useless diet. Dudley had, after all, steadily gained weight to the point where he almost had to walk sideways to fit through the door.

Chewing pensively, he imagined mass panic until the press came up with a new pack of lies.

Hmm…

They would either assure everyone that he would return once he missed the attention, or they would claim that he was the false savior, that Dumbledore had lied to everyone all these years.

He smirked at the thought of Dumbledore receiving all the hate mail from the public. He would probably have a record amount of Howlers.

Who knows?

Maybe he would even have to find himself another savior to save the world from evil Voldemort.

The whole situation was unbelievable, and at least, if he wanted to escape from everyone’s attention, then he should do something about it.

It was at this point that Harry made his first entirely selfish decision in his life.

He was going to do it.

He was going to leave the Dursley’s, where he talked to no one, heard nothing, and pretended that he did not exist, and finally make decisions for himself.

Granted, this was probably a very reckless thing to do that would probably get him killed, but at least he was thinking for himself for once, rather that everyone else.

Nodding firmly to himself, Harry sat up and gazed out the small window that was thankfully not barred or sealed shut this summer. However, the price that he had to pay for it was not worth thinking about.

Even though it was mid-evening, it was still light out. Light enough, it seemed, for his cousin, Dudley (overly obese whale that he was), to skulk around outside with his ever-present gang of idiots.

He hoped that all of the younger kids on the street remembered to stay inside; otherwise, they would quickly find themselves targets of the “gang.”

Sighing, Harry bent over and pushed the empty wrapper back under the loose floorboard, to be thrown into the trash at a later opportunity. Looking around he noticed, once again, the lack of personal items.

All he had was Hedwig’s cage, his textbooks (which had been almost impossible to get Uncle Vernon to let him have), a pile of parchment and ink, and his loose floorboard full of food and various items that he treasured.

Truly, it would be no hardship to leave this place.

He picked up a quill and idly played with it as he pondered his options.

Whom exactly could he stay with?

Who would accept him?

He refused to go off to the Leaky Cauldron. That would be one of the first places that they looked for him.

He needed to live with someone that would hide him.

Most of his friends were out of the question since their homes were unsafe or they would sell him out at the first chance they got.

He was not stupid; he realized that most of his “friends” were eager to drink in some of his unwanted fame. He only dealt with them to prevent himself from making even more enemies.

The only true friends he had were Hermione Granger and Fred and George Weasley, both who lived in an unsafe home.

Hermione, with her Muggle family, and Fred and George with their brother, Ron Weasley, his year mate, who used to be his best friend.

Well, his best friend on Dumbledore’s orders, really.

He’d found out by accident in his third year during the same conversation in which he had discovered he was being hunted by Sirius Black.

Over the last year the Triwizard Tournament had firmly, finally driven them both apart. Ron’s jealousy over his participation in the tournament had become extreme as the year progressed, driving a wedge between him and his brothers, as well as Hermione.

Ron had then gone further and had attempted to get Harry removed from the tower, using past accusations and rumors. Only interference from Professor McGonagall, his strict Head of House and Transfiguration instructor, had saved the house from a certain civil war.

However, even with her interference, the strain on the relationship had been almost too much to bear. The final straw, however, had come when Ron had initiated a formal inquiry against Professor Snape, who through a series of detentions had eventually become Harry’s mentor and friend.

It had taken the rest of the year to prove that nothing appropriate had occurred. Nevertheless, the year had ended on a bad note, and Harry had realized that his relationship with Ron would never recover.

Not that he would want it to.

So, the Weasleys were out. His appearance would only create a strong rift in the family, and he would be completely at the mercy of Dumbledore’s machinations.

The last thing that he wanted.

The next on his list were the other adults that he knew. There weren’t that many (due to Dumbledore) and the ones that he did have…well most of them were on the old man’s payroll.

This included all of the professors at Hogwarts, except for, well, Snape.

But Snape would be at risk if he went to him, and being a double agent was risk enough.

No, that would not do at all.

Out of all the people that he knew, and trusted to not be Death Eaters in disguise, it looked like Sirius and Remus were the only ones left who weren’t in the secret organization of Dumbledore’s that no one had told him of yet.

Harry grimaced as he thought over his prospects.

The former was an escaped convict and the latter was a werewolf. He loved them both, but their status really made it difficult for him to live with them.

Well, there really was no one else, and beggars couldn’t be choosers…

He debated internally for a moment before deciding to write Remus. The man did know more than the average amount of defensive charms, and he had an unplottable safe house.

Maybe he could manage to get Sirius to come stay with them; if they could find Sirius…

At least Remus wasn’t on the run from the Ministry; there would be less aurors that way.

Dipping his now battered quill in ink, he searched his stack of rumpled and stained parchment (Dudley really loved to destroy his things) for a few seconds before digging one out that looked remotely clean.

Dear Remus, he scribbled quickly, ignoring the slight pain in his hands as he wrote.

I’ve had enough.

Frowning, Harry idly tapped the parchment as the thought of the best way to put his next words. He had to phrase it so that Remus would know to come immediately.

I think I’m beginning to understand what’s really going on. I don’t trust my supposedly reliable sources any longer. 

A quick change would be best in the very near future.

Harry.

Smirking, he blew on the page to help the ink dry before calling Hedwig over.

Hooting softly, his longtime friend flew over to land gently on the desk. It took only a few words of coaxing (a change from his first year-she used to peck him before delivering anything), and she was ready to go.

It was but the work of a few minutes before Hedwig was sailing out the window, a letter tied firmly to her leg.

Sighing, he watched her fly until she was out of sight among the treetops.

Turning back to look at his room, he wrinkled his nose before wearily reaching for his Potions textbook (again) in an effort to understand next years curriculum. Ever since his detentions began with Snape he had slowly developed a better understanding of the class.

Severus said that if he continued to study he would do well on his OWLS. And he was determined to do so, if only to prove that he was not a complete dunderhead.

Frowning, Harry read the theory on Dreamless Sleep. He understood the properties of the ingredients and how they affected the potion, but he was not sure why he had to stir clockwise on the sixth step and counterclockwise on the eighth.

He made a mental note to pick up a copy of a basic book on Potions’ methods next chance he got.

Severus had said that it would be more helpful.

And he really needed to do better. Not to be an auror, as most people thought he would be. Actually, he thought he might be a mediwizard like Madam Pomfrey.

Or maybe a Healer.

That would be nice. To get the chance to heal people for once, instead of being expected to hurt them.

If only…

Harry reached over and grabbed his Herbology book and started to take notes on the ingredients found in the potion. Maybe this would give him the answers he needed, or at least gave some hint.

After all, it would be a while before he was able to get that book.

End Chapter 1! Please review! Every review is appreciated, especially constructive criticism!!!


	2. Chapter 2

  
Author's notes: Discovering the extent of Dumbledore's manipulation, Harry runs away to find his true friends, family, and a better life. HPSS preslash, mentions of child abuse, Ron bashing. R&R!  


* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter!

Chapter 2

Later That Night…

Remus Lupin, former Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor and known werewolf, sighed as he sank into his favorite armchair with a nice fresh cup of hot tea.

Nothing could really get better than this. 

Lately he had been so worn out with work for the Order that he had barely been able to think. 

But finally he was done. 

He had handed in his resignation a few days ago to Dumbledore and then had put all his efforts into moving into the secret cottage that no one knew about except for himself, Sirius and Harry. 

He’d quit the Order upon hearing of Dumbledore’s plan to separate Harry from Sirius in order to give him the complete training that the boy supposedly needed. Remus had thought that it was complete hogwash and had told the old man as much.

Then after gazing at him and truly seeing what he had in store for Harry, he had quit. 

Dumbledore, of course, had not lost his unflappable composure, only choosing to twinkle at him, but Remus knew that the man was furious. 

That was why he had fled to his hidden estate, using every precaution he could think of to remain undetected.

Within hours, his owl, Archimedes, had been sent off to Sirius to come as quickly as possible.

Remus did not trust Dumbledore as far as he could throw him, as he was not going to take any chances. 

The next evening both the owl and the animagus had arrived and Remus began casting the rest of his wards. It had taken some time, but with Sirius’ hastily made potions they had managed to secure the cottage against everything from Devil’s Snare to an invasion of Death Eaters.

It had been difficult work and Remus had been glad for the chance to relax.

But Sirius, well, he was still working on something, and he refused to tell Remus what it was until the experiment was done. 

Taking a sip of tea Remus wondered what exactly Dumbledore would choose to tell the Order now that he had finally left.

Would he tell them that he was on a dangerous mission?

One in which he would unfortunately be found dead?

Hmm…That would be the perfect solution if Dumbledore wanted to get rid of him.

All of a sudden, an explosion sounded upstairs, startling Remus out of his chair and knocking his almost empty teacup to the floor.

Cursing, the irate werewolf dashed out of the room to the upstairs lab, wondering what exactly Sirius had done to himself this time.

Unnoticed, the tea dregs, upset by the sudden motion, slowly slid down the inside of the cup, forming the very familiar picture of a Grim.

While known in Remus’ cottage, fondly called Moon’s Paw, as Sirius’ animagus form Padfoot, elsewhere it was the symbol of death.

Throwing the door open to the Potions lab, he burst in, brandishing his wand as he looked for, what he hoped weren’t Sirius’ remains.

Startled, he paused and looked around with wide eyes.

When Sirius had updated the lab on his last visit to the cottage with his money from his Gringotts vault, (Goblins did not believe in freezing accounts-your money was your money) he had changed everything to suit his tastes.

Meaning everything was of the highest quality and the furniture only had a practical purpose. 

Now, however, it looked like multicolored paint had exploded everywhere.

Various colored blotches colored the walls, counters, floors, and even the ceiling. 

“Sirius,” he called hesitantly, not seeing the other man amidst the mess. 

“Sirius, are you alive?”

When no answer came, he frowned and slowly made his way through the disaster area. 

“Padfoot?”

“I’m…here…Just…a…sec,” came the half-gasp, half-moan. 

Slowly, Sirius’ now pink arm raised itself in the air and moved to grab hold of one of the counters along the back wall.

Sirius, who Remus now noticed had blended in with the mess, in three different colors no less, slowly dragged himself off the floor until he was shakily standing by what looked to be the sourced of the explosion.

Remus walked closer and was relieved to see that he was relatively unharmed. 

With black hair, now neon green, blue eyes, and stubborn features, Sirius was almost the opposite of his best friend and secret lover, whose gentle face, brown hair (with honey gold highlights), and amber eyes spoke of knowledge.

Sirius’, however, spoke of nothing but trouble.

“What happened?” he asked, gingerly reaching forward to help Sirius to a nearby stool. 

Goodness, he hoped that nothing in this mess was alive.

“I was trying to make a new potion to help with Harry’s visions, but I guessed I missed a step,” he muttered irritably, running a hand through is shoulder length hair. 

“I don’t think there’s any guess about it,” Remus wryly stated, as he began to scourgify the mess. 

With a sigh and a glare, Sirius took the other side of the room and in no time at the entire lab was spotless.

While Remus pulled up a chair to sit, Sirius retrieved his notes to try to determine his mistake. It took twenty minutes, but after a lot of head scratching and sighing Sirius finally found the answer.

“Ah, ha!” he exclaimed triumphantly. 

“I forgot to counteract the addition of the powdered mandrake root!”

“Really?” Remus questioned, blowing on his ever-present cup of tea (he really loved house elves). 

“It’s hard to believe that you, of all people, made a mistake that simple.” 

Pride stung, Sirius glared and took out a new set of ingredients. “That was not a simple mistake, Moony,” he retorted. “Even Potion Masters make that mistake!”

Smirking, Remus took another sip and watched his friend begin his experiment once more. 

During their days at Hogwarts Sirius had been known for his potion making skills. He had been second only to Snape, so it was exceedingly rare for him to make a mistake that resulted in this kind of explosion.

In fact, his skills at Potions were one of the main reasons why they started their infamous feud that lasted from second year until the present. 

“So, why are you working on a potion for Harry’s visions? I thought it had been determined that they could not be blocked because of his connection to Voldemort.” 

“That’s what I used to think, but after talking to him I believe that it is something more.” 

“Like what?” Remus asked, reaching for the plate of biscuits that Mipsy, his house elf, had brought in just a moment ago.

“You remember how Harry said that he had visions all the time?” 

“Yes, we had that conversation, what, a few weeks ago?” he asked, watching as Sirius heated a second cauldron.

“Well, I found out that his visions aren’t just of Voldemort. He sees random things; things that he would never be able to find out through gossip or the Daily Prophet.” 

“Hmmm…so he’s a Seer then?”

“That’s what I think.”

“So, then he’ll never be able to have control over them,” Remus stated, paling at the implications. “Eventually he won’t be able to live a normal life. He’ll never know when to expect them.”

“Right,” Sirius muttered. “But if I get this potion to work it should be able to control his visions, and maybe make it so that the potions only appear when he is sleeping.” 

Smothering a grin as a sudden idea came to him, Remus looked at Sirius, who was gazing at his notes with a frown. 

“You know what you could do Padfoot? You could write to Severus and see if he’ll give you any advice.”

“…”

“Sirius, did you hear me?” 

“…”

“Siri?”

Remus watched as Sirius muttered a stasis charm before turning to look at him with a wicked gleam in his eye. 

“Prepare yourself, Moony.”

And that was all the warning he received before Sirius attacked.

Rolling, punching, and kicking (he’d knocked both their wands out of the way at first contact-a trick he’d learned third year), they fought, yet again, in an effort to gain temporary dominance over the other.

And, of course, bragging rights. 

Soon enough, Sirius had him in a headlock, and it was all he could do to not reach for the wand he saw laying a few inches away. 

“Give up yet, Moony?” Sirius’ husky voice questioned, causing Remus to go bright red. 

Oh the things that man could do with his voice.

“Depends on what I get out of it,” he muttered hoarsely. 

“Oh, really?”

One of Sirius’ eyebrows rose an inch as he contemplated that statement. 

Grinning wickedly, he leaned forward to propose a very interesting proposition to his lover, only to be interrupted by a sharp peck to his face as an owl landed on his shoulder.

“Bloody hell!”

Cursing he rolled away from Remus to clutch the side of his face.

Now free, Remus stood up and went over to Hedwig to retrieve the letter tied to her leg. 

“Hmmm…I wonder what Harry has to say?” he idly wondered, glancing over at Sirius, who was now glaring death at the not-so-innocent owl.

“I know what I’ll have to say to Harry about controlling his bloody owl,” Sirius growled. 

“Hush, Sirius.” 

Smiling, Remus opened the letter and read the parchment.

Slowly the smile faded to be replaced by a frown. 

“Well, I know he was suspicious, but I wasn’t expecting this.”

“What, what did he say?” Sirius asked, bouncing up and down like an overexcited three year old. 

“It looks like Harry’s finally seen the truth about Dumbledore. Well, part of the truth, anyways.” 

Sirius tensed, wary and alert. “Does Dumbledore know that?” 

Shaking his head, Remus handed the letter over. “No, I don’t think so. But I think we need to get him out of the house before Dumbledore suspects.”

“Alright,” Sirius agreed. “When do we go?” 

“I am going now. You are staying here,” Remus firmly stated before reaching down to retrieve his wand from the floor.

“But that’s not fair,” the animagus whined, crossing his arms. 

“It’s perfectly fair,” he stated affably. 

“If you come you will most likely be caught. And if you stay here, you don’t. And I am sure Harry does not want to escape from his relatives only to have to deal with an imprisoned godfather. Again.” 

Sirius winced, but did not say another word, a clear sign that he had given up. 

With a sigh, Remus left, hoping that he would get there when the Order switched guards. 

“Well,” Sirius sighed, once the door had closed. “Might as well finish this potion. Here’s hoping that I don’t blow up the lab again.” 

Unfortunately, he only made it a few steps before he suddenly tripped and fell flat on his face.

Eyes blazing Snapish death glares (not that he would ever admit it), Sirius turned to look at the offending culprit, which happened to be his wand. 

“Damn thing,” he muttered and leaned over to quickly snatch it off the floor. 

“Couldn’t have the decency to stay on the table where I left it.” 

And with that, he stalked over to his cauldrons, ignoring the fact that the floor was the last place he had left his wand, during the brief fight to Remus. 

Well, at least he won.

For once. 

 

End of Chapter 2!!

Author’s Notes:

Holen-Snape: Definite slash will not develop until later in the story. This will be either 5th or 6th year. 

Panther73110: The answer to that will come up within the next couple of chapters. 

Thanks for the reviews! Thanks also go to snapes griffindor and ginny75.

Please review! Constructive criticisms are welcome!!!


	3. Chapter 3

  
Author's notes: UPDATED!!! Discovering the extent of Dumbledore's manipulation, Harry runs away to find his true friends, family, and a better life. HPSS preslash, mentions of child abuse, Ron bashing. R&R!

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own HP!

A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews! However, if you want something added or feel that I have too many holes in the story, let me know!! I have most of it written it out already, but this is the first one I’ve written in a LONG time, so I’m a little rusty. Please, please let me know where I’m lacking.

Chapter 3

It was late into the evening when Remus arrived; approximately five extremely well cut lawns down from Number Four, Privet Drive. 

It had taken him quite awhile to safely arrive since the guard schedule had abruptly changed. He’d been forced to haunt Magnolia Crescent while he waited out Mad-Eye Moody, who was always beyond paranoid (especially after being locked in a trunk for a year). 

When Moody finally left, Remus’ luck had abruptly risen with the arrival of Mundungus Fletcher, the worst guard in the Order. It had been the work of a moment to send the man off another mission-via an anonymous message informing the man of cheap illegal cauldrons to be “found” in Knockturn Alley.

Once the man had left, Remus had taken the opportunity to apparate onto the disgustingly immaculate street. 

Wrinkling his nose, Remus looked at the rows of identical houses with identical cars and lawns. Really, this was just downright abnormal. Remus shook his head absently and quickly walked down the unnaturally still street, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck begin to stand up.

Following his instinct, Remus silently opened the door via an Alohomora and closed and locked it behind him. Once inside, he took a deep breath while he waited for his vision to adjust.

Sometimes being a werewolf had its perks.

Quickly surveying the house, he could tell that the unnatural stillness and neatness were prevalent. Usually, even in a house as new as this one, there were at least a few sounds, stairs creaking, wind blowing, but there was nothing.

Quietly Remus made his way to the second floor, noting the excessive amounts of photographs of Harry’s cousin, Dudley. As he went up the stairs, he noticed that the portraits progressed in age, and in each one, Dudley’s size increased dramatically.

Smirking faintly, he remembered Arthur’s tale of last year, when he had picked Harry up for his stay at the Burrow. The descriptions of the boy gagging on his ten-foot tongue, brought about by his all-consuming greed, had been ironic and vastly amusing.

And, from these portraits, it looks as if his appetite hasn’t been quenched at all, he mused, as he walked up the stairs, making sure to skip the third step from the top.

Poor kid, Remus thought sadly. He’s going to be dead before he’s forty, the way he’s going. 

Upon reaching the landing, Remus took a moment to get his bearings before heading to the second door on the left, knowing from Harry’s letters that it was his bedroom. 

However, Remus mused. Even if I had not have found that out, I would have figured out whose bedroom based on the sight of the locks alone.

Silently undoing the locks on the door, he slipped into the dark, dingy bedroom and glanced around for Harry, finding him next to the only window. At the disturbance, Harry turned to his honorary godfather briefly before returning his attention to the lawn outside.

“Someone’s out there,” he remarked softly as Remus moved to stand beside him.

A shiver of unease crept up Remus’ spine.

“Who?”

Harry frowned and absently brushed his hair out of his eyes with a too thin hand. “It’s not anyone that belongs to Dumbledore, that’s for sure.”

Remus cursed. “Mundungus isn’t back?”

Harry frowned. “Mundungus? Who is that? And why would he be watching my house?”

“I don’t want to get into it tonight, Harry. But simply put, Dumbledore has put together an organization known as the Order of the Phoenix, which is dedicated to fighting Voldemort. And right now, the main priority of the Order is to watch you and ensure that Death Eaters don’t attack.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Lovely. Just what I’ve been waiting to hear.”

Remus eyed the lawn, his sharp eyes picking out the hidden figures easily. “How can you tell it’s not anyone from the Order?” he asked.

“Simple. They’ve been here since yesterday morning and have only changed out once. Dumbledore’s people change out twice a day, like clockwork.”

“That is true,” Remus agreed. 

The sense of unease began to rise as the two looked out to window. It abruptly escalated into alarm when they heard several sharp cracks, the telltale sound of wizards apparating onto the street.

Feeling Harry stiffen next to him, Remus knew that he had recognized them as well. “We need to leave now, Harry,” he said, quickly shrinking the boy’s trunk and slipping it into his pocket. 

“Let’s go,” he said hoarsely, his throat tightening in rising fear.

They stealthily walked out onto the landing and down the stairs, taking care not to make a sound. At the bottom, however, a thought struck Remus. 

They couldn’t apparate now. There were too many Death Eaters outside the wards, and they would surely grab them a few feet from the boundary of the wards.

“What is it Moony?” Harry quietly asked his worried green eyes easy to see even in the dark.

“We can’t leave the wards,” Remus said faintly, mind automatically going through their options. 

Portkey?

Harry can’t stand it…Easy to trace…

Floo?

Too much noise to activate it…Death Eaters might be watching the network…Illegal to use a Muggle fireplace to access the Floo Network without prior approval…

Apparition?

Have to be outside the wards…

Broomstick?

Could be spotted even if they used an invisibility spell…

“We’ll have to do something quick then, Moony,” Harry stated flatly in a strained voice.

A gasp of pain.

“I think Voldemort’s coming.”

Eyes wide, Remus thought through his options once more before deciding on a Portkey. Reaching into his pockets, he rummaged around before pulling out a two Honeydukes’ wrappers.

“Listen, Harry,” he whispered urgently, gripping Harry’s arm to ensure his full attention. “I know that you don’t like these, but we have to take a Portkey, two to be precise since our destination could easily be traced.”

Harry’s voice was soft, almost hesitant. “But what about the Dursleys? What if the wards fall when I leave and…”

Remus ran a hand through his hair. “We’re going to have to take that chance. From the looks of it, there isn’t enough time to take your relatives. We’re just going to have to hope that the wards continue to hold.”

“I suppose.”

“The wards were created with ancient blood magic and they’re supposed to hold until you reach your majority. It should be fine,” he stated, trying to sound cheerful, for Harry’s sake.

Harry wasn’t reassured, but he nodded to make Remus feel better about it.

Assured that Harry wasn’t going to do any ridiculous stunts, Remus tapped both wrappers while muttering the incantation. He tucked the second Portkey in an easily accessible pocket, ready to leave as soon as possible.

As he told Harry to stand close and touch the Portkey, he ignored the overwhelming sense of guilt as he thought of the Death Eaters outside. 

Voldemort was powerful, everyone knew that, and there was a strong possibility that he could break through the powerful wards. 

He hoped that it didn’t happen.

“Ready?”

Harry nodded.

“Escape,” Remus whispered, and with a strong jerk to the navel, they were swept away in a riot of colors, far away from Privet Drive.

As soon as they landed in what looked to be a part of the Scottish wilderness, Remus enlarged Harry’s trunk. “Quickly, grab your broom,” he instructed the teen.

Still somewhat nauseous, Harry complied, and a few moments later, they were soaring away his Firebolt, both wearing strong Disillusionment charms.

Harry held on tight to Remus’ robes as they flew at the maximum speed allowed by the safety charms. Even that was barely fast enough, for as they raced away from their landing site the distinct cracking sounds were heard.

Remus, realizing that they could clearly be seen, moved swiftly into the cloud cover. This proved to be hazardous, for within several minutes they were frozen to the broom from the immense cold.

They flew for what Harry estimated to be a little over an hour when Remus finally decided to land outside a small village. 

Harry was extremely thankful, since the feeling had disappeared in his limbs quite a few minutes ago from the speed at which they moved through the air.

Once upon the ground, he took a few seconds to jump up and down a few times to force the feeling back into his feet and legs. It wasn’t until he felt the prick of what felt like a thousand needles as the blood rushed back into his extremities, that he looked over at Remus and immediately scowled.

His honorary godfather was looking more than a little amused at his predicament and was idly leaning against a nearby tree, looking as if he had been waiting for a quite a while.

However, Harry knew that though he gave the appearance of being remarkably bored, Remus was actually on high alert, watching for any signs of someone following them.

After Harry had recovered Remus pulled out the second Portkey.

“Ready?” Remus smirked.

Harry sent him a patented Potter death glare.

Remus chuckled and with a whispered “home” they were swept away to their final destination.

When they finally arrived in a small clearing in the middle of what looked to be a forest Remus gave a small sigh of relief. 

“This way,” he said, and heading towards a small, almost unnoticeable path into the woods. 

Harry groaned, still experiencing the dizzying effects of the Portkey, but followed. 

It was a five minute walk through the thickest bramble Harry had ever seen before they stopped.

“Are we there yet?”

Remus smirked. “We’re at the boundaries of the wards. Just hold on a second. You’ll be able to lay down in a few minutes.”

Waving his wand in a series of gestures, Remus stated the password to pass through the wards, before reaching for his godson, who had, by now, finally thrown up what little he had eaten that day.

Once through the boundary, the wards automatically reset themselves while the two quickly entered the cottage.

More like a manor, Harry thought as he entered a dark hallway.

Harry breathed deeply as he was led into a kitchen and placed into a chair. And as Remus made him a cup of hot chocolate (the only cure for nausea) he couldn’t help but feel that he was finally home.

Privet Drive…

It was shortly after midnight when the Dark Lord Voldemort, terror of the wizarding world, arrived on Privet Drive with two of his most trusted followers, Lucius Malfoy and Severus Snape. 

Earlier in the day, one of his followers had captured an agent of the Order. It had taken more than the usual amount of time to question the agent, but eventually they managed to discover Potter’s home address.

In the meantime, he’d instructed his Death Eaters on the street to wait until he’d obtained the information necessary to break through the wards on the house.

And finally, he was here.

“My Lord,” Bellatrix stated, head nearly touching the ground as she bowed. 

“What is the status?” he stated coldly, eyeing the small house. 

“The Order’s pet werewolf arrived a little while ago, my lord, and took the boy with him by Portkey. We managed to track them to their destination, but they used another means of transport to get away.”

Having finished her report, Bellatrix stood and moved back, waiting on her lord’s reaction.

“Very well, then. Lucius!”

Lucius Malfoy’s ice blue eyes turned to the Dark Lord. “Yes, my lord?”

The voice was soft, almost a whisper, but Lucius heard it clearly. “Break the wards, kill the muggles inside, and burn this despicable house to the ground.”

“Yes, my lord,” Lucius bowed. Raising his voice, he began to issue instructions to the lesser Death Eaters. 

Thankfully, with the information they had discovered it would not take long to break through the wards.

As he watched his Death Eaters work, Voldemort ruminated on what he had learned about Potter’s home life. He’d been surprised to learn that the boy suffered abuse.

He’d been even more shocked to learn that the old man had known and had done nothing.

Well, on some level he had expected it, based on the fool’s previous actions over the years.

History repeats itself, he mentally sneered. You can’t keep yourself from making the same mistake over and over again.

Well, this time I’m going to reap the benefits, he thought as he watched the wards fall under the combined power of his Death Eaters.

Several minutes later his followers entered and began to silently make their way through the home. If any of the neighbors had woken at that point in time, they would have seen three green flashes of light as the Death Eaters murdered the Dursley family in their sleep.

And if the neighbors had stayed awake for a little while longer they would have witnessed the massive glow from the flames as the house burned to the ground.

As it was, the residents of Privet Drive were safely in their beds, and none of them would discover the charred remnants of Number Four until the next morning.

End of Chapter 3!

Please read and review!!

A/N: I’m looking for a beta if anyone wants to volunteer! Just let me know!!


	4. Chapter 4

  
Author's notes: Discovering the extent of Dumbledore's manipulation, Harry runs away to find his true friends, family, and a better life. HPSS preslash, mentions of child abuse, Ron bashing. R&R! Abuse,Angst,M/M,WIP

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own HP!

Chapter 4

Albus Dumbledore was not a happy man.

After spending years cultivating his many pawns, several had gone missing. And one was the most important of all. 

Last night the wards on Harry Potter’s home had disintegrated and by the time the Order arrived, they found the Dursleys dead, no real loss there, and Harry missing. 

It would have been wonderful to if Harry’s wand signature had been found amidst the remains. Controlling the boy would have proved to be simple if he was in prison. Unfortunately, however, it had been immediately determined to be the work of Death Eaters (the glowing green skull floating above the burning house had been a major clue).

Now he could not determine whether the boy had left on his own of if he had been taken. At the moment, he was waiting for Severus Snape, one of his spies for Voldemort, to return from the Death Eater meeting to make his report. 

In addition to the disappearance to the Boy-Who-Lived was the untimely resignation of Remus Lupin. Oddly enough, the werewolf had chosen to leave the Order after he had received the details of his next mission.

He really could not comprehend why Remus chose to not put all of his efforts into helping the greater good, but it was not as if he had to worry about the werewolf anymore. After all, his plan would ultimately succeed no matter whom he had go on the mission.

In addition, he had to concern himself with the whereabouts of Harry’s godfather, Sirius Black. This disappearance particularly disturbed him, especially after the time it had taken to break the man’s will. 

He had known from the beginning that Black was a very determined individual, one who could not quit an issue until it was solved. So, he had devised a complex plan that would get Black framed for murder and put into prison indefinitely. This plan had tied in with the unfortunate but necessary death of the Potters since he needed to be in control of Harry, the Prophesized One.

As soon as they had died by his hand, he had been surprised by the Voldemort, coming to stop the murder of the Potters. They dueled fiercely, destroying most of the objects in the cottage, but it quickly ended with one accidental curse.

Dumbledore threw as many curses at possible in an effort to kill Voldemort, who was protecting the child. Unfortunately, one of his curses passed by Voldemort and struck Harry fully on the forehead. . 

At that moment, he had seen years of planning come crashing down. However, it was all saved when, due to some ancient magic, the Avada Kedavra bounced off Harry’s head and struck the “Dark” Lord in the back. 

At the time, he had been given the perfect opportunity to get rid of the brat once and for all, but he had been surprised by an unexpected visit from Harry’s godfather and Hagrid. Black was supposed to have been hidden in a safe house, where he would have been apprehended the next day as the traitor that gave the Dark Lord the Potter’s location.

It would have been all too easy, if the stupid animagus had not decided to see the Potter family. Black was easy to take care of. All he had to do was remind him of the existence of Pettigrew and he apparated from the site. Hagrid, however, was a problem, since it was notoriously difficult to Obliviate a half-giant…

So, he had made the decision to send the boy to the Dursleys, where he hopefully, by the time he turned eleven, would be ready to believe whatever he told him. 

It was fantastic really, that his plan had worked out. Black, enraged with grief, found Pettigrew, the true Secret Keeper, and confronted him. Pettigrew escaped, however, and took thirteen Muggles with him.

He spent the next twelve years as a rat and the year after that in search of his master, Voldemort.

Thankfully, Black was practically insane at that point, and he let the Aurors take him without struggle. A few words here, a benign twinkle there, and Black was incarcerated without the proper Veritaserum interview or trial.

He spent the next twelve years in Azkaban.

Harry, at the Dursleys, spent the next ten years abused, neglected, and hated. 

When he came to Hogwarts he was completely ignorant of all things magical, and in the shabbiest clothes Dumbledore had ever seen. He strongly resembled a street urchin at the Sorting, and Dumbledore had felt success.

Thankfully, there had been enough Gryffindor in the boy to put him in the proper house. If Slytherin had been his home, it would have been far more difficult to manipulate the boy, especially under the very watchful eyes of Severus Snape, an abused child himself.

He had then spent the next few years molding the boy and ensuring that he experienced enough hardship to keep him glued to his side.

He had encouraged Molly Weasley to ensure that Harry was friends with her youngest son, a person that would hinder Harry through his own petty jealousy. This friendship had an added benefit in that it made sure that Harry became more dependent on others for help in different situations.

After all, it would not do for Harry to become independent and realize what he had in store for him.

And now it was ruined.

It did not really matter whether Harry had left on his own or been taken, since either way it had ruined years of planning. If he had been taken by Voldemort then he would tell Harry the truth, which would turn him to the other side immediately.

If he had left on his own then Dumbledore knew that Harry suspected something.

He needed a plan, he needed to fix this mistake, he needed…to contact his friends.

If Harry had left on his own, his friends would know where he was, and maybe it would not be too late to get rid of Harry’s suspicions. Surely Harry would go directly to one of his friend’s homes.

Although he knew that Harry had been slightly on the outs with Ron Weasley, he was sure that they had made up by now, since they were, after all, teenagers. 

And, if for some reason, he decided to not go to the Burrow, he was sure that Harry would visit Hermione Granger, who he had unfortunately not been able to recruit to his side. As an extremely dedicated student and friend, she was, thankfully predictable.

She would take Harry into her home without question. 

Granger’s friendship with Harry had been completely unexpected since he had pegged her as a Ravenclaw the moment she stepped through the doors her first year.

Thankfully, his ingenuity had ensured that she could not get anywhere near the information that he had hidden from the wizarding world for decades.

Beyond those two he knew that the only place Harry would think to go, since he had this very useful tendency to blame himself for putting others in danger, (it made him so easy to predict), was the Leaky Cauldron.

Harry had stayed there the summer before his third year by order from Fudge, who had gotten the idea from him. Actually, Fudge got most of his ideas from him, since the man had never been able to think for himself.

Dumbledore smiled, a vicious evil smile that sent shudders through the silent portraits of the long dead Headmasters of Hogwarts, who had stopped giving advice shortly after Harry’s arrival at Hogwarts.

He would make this plan work, he had spent too long developing his pawns; he would not see his work ruined. Harry’s friends would give him all the information he wanted, and, if the boy had truly run away, then he would have him back within a few days.

And than he would make sure that he never left again.

Harry would learn a few vital lessons, all within a secret chamber adjacent to his office. And there the boy would stay until he was back on the path firmly laid out for him by his dear,” beloved” headmaster.

Suddenly, he felt the wards around the entrance to his office twitch, letting him know that he had a visitor.

By the time the visitor was halfway up the stairs, he had identified him as Severus, recently returned from the Death Eaters. His smile widened and at the knock on the door, he settled back into his chair and called for the man to enter.

Finally, he would get some answers.

End of Chapter 4!

Please review!!!


	5. Chapter 5

  
Author's notes: Discovering the extent of Dumbledore's manipulation, Harry runs away to find his true friends, family, and a better life. HPSS preslash, mentions of child abuse, Ron bashing. R&R!  


* * *

Disclaimer: As always, I do not own HP!

A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews!! It gives me motivation to continue typing out the rest of this LONG story.

And now, on to the chapter!!

Chapter 5

Several Hours Prior…

The Dark Lord Voldemort, also known as Tom Marvolo Riddle by a selected few (or pookie by Nagini), was a very happy man. Finally, he had broken the power of his archenemy’s wards around Harry Potter’s home, and managed to kill his filthy Muggle relatives.

Regaining his power after his rebirth (most of which he could not recall) had taken longer than he had anticipated. Unfortunately, the boy had already left the home earlier that evening, but at least he was out from under Dumbledore’s manipulative thumb for once.

Through Severus, he had discovered that the boy had become disenchanted with Dumbledore’s side after the recent death of Cedric Diggory. 

That murder he could blame on Pettigrew’s overzealousness and the confusion from his life as an almost powerless entity.

Even after his rebirth, it had taken days to recover his true self, buried under layers upon layers of rage and insanity. Even now he could not recall most of what had taken place at the graveyard (what a cliché place to conduct a ritual; he had been forced to hurt Pettigrew for that one). 

Now all he needed to do was contact his grandson, so that he could finally tell him what had really occurred all those years ago. 

What Dumbledore had done to his only daughter, Lily, and what had really caused the deaths of Harry’s parents.

Hopefully, if he was careful, he could convince Harry to stay with him at his hidden mansion where he would be safer.

Voldemort frowned and pondered what exactly he needed to do, while ignoring the food and tea that had sat at his side for nearly an hour. Sitting in his favorite armchair in his extravagant study, he looked much like his younger self. 

With rich dark hair and green eyes, he practically oozed wealth with his luxurious clothes and dignified air.

Yes, he had recovered very well from his rebirth.

Unknown to the wizarding world, he came from a very old wizarding line, long thought to be extinct. However, as he had discovered in his youth, it had actually become a line of squibs, the latent magic traveling down through the generations, until combined with his mother’s magic, it appeared in him. 

Upon reaching his majority, he had been notified of several vaults that had been held in the family name for centuries until an appropriate magical heir came along. He had searched through the vaults and had discovered that he was incredibly wealthy and classified as a Pureblood.

This discovery had given him the leverage he needed to become the leader of the other Pureblood families, who would do anything for the true Lord Slytherin. 

It had been all too easy then to begin making his way through the Ministry, and just when he had been on his way to becoming Minister of Magic Albus Dumbledore had decided to block his way.

Afraid of any Slytherin, Dumbledore had turned the public against him and, before he knew it, the man had come after him, his followers, and his family. 

The attack upon his grandson and his parents had been disastrous, and he had arrived shortly after the old man had killed his daughter and her husband. They immediately began to duel and by accident, a stray curse had hit his grandson, but instead of the expected result, it had bounced off and hit him instead.

As a result, he had spent years as a spirit, living off whatever he could to survive. It had taken years of thought, and, more recently, research, but he had finally determined that it was the complex connection between himself, his grandson, and Dumbledore that had caused the unusual result. 

He had decided that if the curse had bounced and hit Dumbledore it would have possibly had the same effect. But that was years in the past, and it was next to impossible for the same situation to occur.

Startled from his thoughts by a sudden knock on the oaken door of his study, Voldemort looked up to see Severus Snape, his Potions Master, spy, and friend anxiously looking into the room. 

“Ah, Severus,” he stated affably. “Come and have a seat.”

Gracefully entering, Severus chose a leather armchair situated near the fireplace.

“What can I do for you?” 

“I was surprised that the Potter boy was not in residence,” he answered hesitantly, brushing a strand of his non-greasy hair behind his ear.

Voldemort smirked at the changed appearance. Severus’ “normal” appearance at school was mainly a disguise, used to generate fear among the students and staff. It was much harder to question someone’s actions if you were afraid of the person.

“As far as I could tell he still believed in the old fool when he left from school.”

Voldemort gazed at his friend evenly, waiting for him to sort out his thoughts.

“Are you going to go after the boy?” Voldemort shook his head and reached for the now cold cup of tea, absently heating it with a wandless spell, as Severus sipped from a freshly delivered cup.

“I have no need to. The boy must already suspect; all I need to do is to contact him and let him know his options. He will be informed that he has a place to go if he wants the truth and protection.”

Severus studied the flames in the fireplace a moment before speaking. “What should I tell the old fool? About the raid, I mean?” 

Voldemort snorted dismissively. “Just inform him that it was a product of my insane rage. He will believe that.” 

Severus nodded as he took another sip of the tea. 

The next half hour was spent in silent contemplation, both men lost in their thoughts of the future of the wizarding world.

The Boy-Who-Lived.

End of Chapter 5!!

Please review!!!


	6. Chapter 6

  
Author's notes: Discovering the extent of Dumbledore's manipulation, Harry runs away to find his true friends, family, and a better life. HPSS preslash, mentions of child abuse, Ron bashing. R&R! Abuse,Angst,M/M,WIP  


* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own HP!

A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews!

Chapter 6

Headmaster’s Office, Hogwarts…

I always detest returning from a meeting to my false master. 

The old fool, who believes himself all-powerful, has become more insane over the last few years, and it has become more difficult to predict his plans.

One such misinterpretation led to the demise of the Potters. After all, the old fool did covet their son’s power and wanted it for his own. 

I, of course, did not see that motive until some time after the event. However, I have spent years watching the man, and now I feel that I am confident that I can, at the very least, prevent him from discovering his true whereabouts.

When I walk into his gaudily decorated office, almost shrine, surrounded as he is by implements that represent the boy (red and gold, the phoenix, Godric Gryffindor’s sword), I wish that I could just skip over this meeting. It would be pleasant to not be forced to live it, but the gods are known for never answering my prayers, so I do not even try. 

Seating myself in an overly plush armchair, I gaze into the twinkling blue eyes as I refuse a lemon drop I am certain is laced with Veritaserum or another truth serum. 

The many portraits of the past headmasters are silent, as always, showing their disapproval, in their own way, of the old coot’s actions.

Really, what he has done to the boy is almost inhuman.

I, living so closely under his thumb, can hardly disapprove and have been forced to keep up the act of a nasty evil git of a Potions Professor in order to distract everyone from the fact that I actually do care about the boy. 

“What news do you have for me, my boy?” he asks between sips of his favorite tea, also laced, though whether it is a cheering charm or a calming draught that affects it I have yet to determine.

I despise the tea that he consumes. 

“The Dark Lord broke through the wards on Potter’s home and killed the Muggles,” I state calmly, not wanting to reveal my information too soon.

“Yes,” Dumbledore says. “We found the remains of the house shortly after the attack.”

He falls silent waiting for me to speak, but I have not been a spy for so many years without learning patience.

Of course, the old man has been playing this game for years as well.

Eventually, I break the silence, confident that my mind is secure against any possible attack. 

“The Potter brat was not in residence,” I state, loathing saturating my voice. “The Dark Lord currently has several people out looking for the boy. He hopes to find him before the beginning of the school year,” I lie.

Almost immediately, I feel the man’s silent Legilimency hitting me full force, and I quickly steer him to the part of my mind that I want him to see.

As always, he is fooled by my extensive skill, far more than he has, by the way, and leans back in his chair. “Very well, Severus. I am relieved that he not in Tom’s clutches, as of yet.” I nod, my hands curling into fists in my robes.

He did not even question why the boy left. He does not even care about the boy as long as he is alive. 

“This calls for an emergency meeting of the Order then,” Dumbledore states cheerfully. “Make sure you are there tonight.” 

I nod once more and then quickly make my way out of the repulsive office, my robes billowing out behind me (the weeks of practice are still worth it) as I walk.

Back in the office, Dumbledore smirked victoriously. 

The Dark Lord did not have him; there was still hope.

Idly toying with the thought of his next course of action, he reached for a sheet of parchment and began constructing a lengthy letter to Ronald Weasley.

Malfoy Manor…

I have been a member of Tom’s circle for years now and I have never once regretted my decision, especially after witnessing Dumbledore’s treatment of first the Potters, Black, and the Boy-Who-Lived.

Being known as a supposed, but never proven, Dark Wizard has certainly helped me further my own aims.

Instead of being a simpering fool, working under Dumbledore, I obtain whatever I want with a few veiled threats. It is a glorious existence, and I revel in the power given to me by my lover, Tom.

It is somewhat surprising that I have ended up where I am, since I always imagined that I would spend the rest of my days with Narcissa.

She, however, died over a year ago in a botched attempt to spy on the Order. I mourn her still, but ever since I have begun the relationship with Tom, the mourning has been easier. 

Draco, my only son, has also helped in that he reminds me of what it is like to be young and almost carefree. He reminds me that I used to have that, and that it was Dumbledore who took everything away from me. 

Looking at the letter sent by my Tom this morning I feel a small smile appearing, a not so rare occurrence these days. 

He is always so knowing, already realizing what I need to hear to stay out of the well of depression that I constantly seem to sink into, even after a year of getting used to the idea that she is gone.

“Father?”

Startled, I look at my son, apparently just out of the Floo (judging by the soot n his clothes), and motion for him to join me on the bench.

It is summer and the gardens look beautiful, mostly thanks to me, not that anyone outside this family will ever know of my little secret. A Malfoy loving Herbology and gardening was unheard of, and I prefer to keep it that way.

Draco sits next to me, looking calm and collect as always, and gazes at one of the nearby rose bushes. It is a while before he speaks. “Are you going to sit out here all day?” 

I fold the letter and place it within the confines of my robes. “Not all day, Draco. Where have you been?” 

Surprisingly, he blushes, an interesting contrast against his blonde hair and ice gray eyes. “I went to go visit Blaise,” he says suddenly, his gaze turning firmly towards the ground. 

One of my eyebrows arch as I wait to discover just what my foolish young son has done to make himself blush in just that way. 

“He was…busy, with someone else.”

And not me, I finished silently.

I had been aware of my son’s interest in Blaise Zabini for some time. However, I had done nothing to help or hinder the possible relationship, because I knew how much Zabini loved to be with other people, every single night. 

“He promised that we could get together this summer,” Draco muttered bitterly.

“I have told you about promises from other people, son. They mean next to nothing.” 

Scowling, his eyes turned to mine, almost shocking, as always, in their exact likeness. 

“I know, I just…thought he liked me.” 

I could not find an answer to that, so I waited. 

“Is there something wrong with me?” 

I sigh, wondering how on earth someone could put that insecurity into his brain, especially after all the times I have told him that he is a Malfoy and above everyone else. 

I reach over and gather him into my arms. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with you,” I fiercely whisper. “And I do not ever want you to think of yourself like that again.”

We stay there like that for some time, both giving and receiving comfort, before Draco finally pulls away and makes a futile gesture to wipe away the signs that he has been crying.

“Thank you, Father,” he states, formal once again.

I nod and get to my feet, somewhat hungry after hours of sitting out here in the sun.

“I believe dinner should be ready by now,” I state calmly, looking towards the manor, one of the greatest in Britain.

“It looks to be about that time. I hope Tipsy made those tarts that I like.” 

Mentally I smile and hope that Tipsy has made those tarts, since they are, after all, my favorite food as well.

Together we make our way inside, and I find the time to hope that maybe, someday, everything will be as I have wished it.

End of Chapter 6! Please review!!


	7. Chapter 7

  
Author's notes: Discovering the extent of Dumbledore's manipulation, Harry runs away to find his true friends, family, and a better life. HPSS preslash, mentions of child abuse, Ron bashing. R&R!  


* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own HP!

Chapter 7

The Burrow…

I am the sixth of seven children and I am not known for anything.

I do not have a brilliant job like Bill or Charlie, who works as a curse breaker and a dragon tamer respectively. I am not known for being a sycophantic kiss ass like Percy, or natural born troublemaker like the twins. 

No, I am just Ron, average student, and sidekick of Harry Potter. 

I am one of the crowd and I absolutely hate it.

During my childhood, I remember wishing that I had the fame; that I could walk outside and have the entire world looking at me. But, of course, it was just a dream. 

When I finally went to Hogwarts, I wondered what the famous Harry Potter would be like. I wondered if I would be able to see the unknown power that defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. I thought of him as some great hero. 

 

But when I met him, I was disappointed. He was frail, tiny, and quiet. He was nothing like I had imagined.

And he was easy to take advantage of.

I never considered myself a cruel person, but when I met Harry Potter, everything changed. I made it my main goal to make him rely on me for opinions, advice and friendship. I ensured that he was always by my side, thus making myself the most important person in his life.

For several years, I rejoiced in the fame I received for being his friend, and I felt the power when I chose what we would do.

However, it was not enough for me.

I needed more.

So, in fourth year I split from Harry and began to actively take control of the house. I managed to get more than a few members on my side and I would have gotten further if it had not been for my brothers, Fred and George. 

Practically in love with Harry, they did everything they could to support him. Some nights I discovered him sleeping in their dorm, rather than ours. 

Eventually, the situation evolved into a civil war, and I knew I only needed one more thing to tip the house to my side.

That was when I discovered the relationship between Harry and Snape.

I could not believe it! Snape, our greasy, sallow, hook-nosed professor who hated Harry, was spending time with him.

An unusual amount of time, to be precise. 

I began to stalk Harry in an effort to gather evidence, and discovered that what everyone else thought were detentions, were actually hours spent in what I assumed to be Snape’s private quarters.

I never actually discovered what it was exactly they were doing. I left that up to Professor McGonagall.

Once I had the routine down pat, I confessed my suspicions to McGonagall. This ensured that she stormed down to the dungeons right in the middle of one of the “detentions.” 

I know they started a formal inquiry, but nothing came of it.

Snape was not fired, such a pity, and Harry was livid.

Naturally, Snape became more vicious and by the end of the term, the house had negative points. 

And everyone blamed me. 

I, of course, blamed Harry since he decided to remain the blushing virgin, instead of doing something illicit with the Potions Master.

What an unbelievable girl!

Really, who decides to wait? 

It did not help either that the detentions were actually lessons on wizarding culture, or so Professor McGonagall informed me on my third detention of scrubbing cauldrons.

The third of many as I unfortunately discovered.

Moony’s Paw…

Laughing, Harry ducked a Rictumsempra and returned it with one of his own before ducking a Petrificus Totalus sent by Remus.

Fighting two against one was hardly fair, but Harry took to it immediately, ducking and rolling out of the way, as he sent hexes back at a quick fire pace.

He had only been here for a few days, but had taken to the daily routine with few problems. One of his favorite parts of the day were the multiple pranks and duels.

Naturally, he had started out the day with a potion slipped into their food, easily done since he was the only one capable of cooking anything.

Within five minutes of breakfast they both had pink hair.

That would not have been so bad if it was not for the fact that every time they tried to magically change it their hair became brighter. Needless to say, by the time they recovered from their shock, the both had neon green hair with silver glitter. 

Very Slytherin, he had to say.

And such had begun their duel.

Harry took up position behind the couch as both men fired hexes. Although he was talented and could last for a while, he knew it was a matter of time before they beat him. 

Ducking down after sending yet another hex, Harry missed Sirius’ significant glance to Remus and subsequent change into Padfoot. 

He did, however, figure it out a moment later when the animagus jumped over the couch onto him, and began to tickle him on the sides and stomach with his paws. 

Harry had always been extremely ticklish, which Sirius had discovered Harry’s first day here, so he could not come up with any defense as the animagus attacked. Which was why it was so easy for Remus to make boy surrender while Padfoot tickled him mercilessly.

Harry surrendered moments later. And then he gleefully informed them that the potion would not wear off until tomorrow.

As Harry slunk off to his room to grab his summer homework, the two Marauders scowled before flopping down on the couch.

“I cannot believe he pranked us,” Sirius sullenly muttered, the pride in his eyes showing exactly what he felt. 

“Well, we did deserve it,” Remus mused, as he absently tugged at a lock of his positively Slytherin hair.

“No, we did not!” he hotly stated, sitting up straight in order to give a proper glare of death to his longtime friend.

Remus rolled his eyes. “You do not remember yesterday, when you charmed his clothes to capture and tickle him every time he passed the wardrobe?” 

Sirius coughed. “Oh.”

“I swear, Sirius. Sometimes I think you will never grow up,” Remus laughed, admiring his hair in a hastily conjured mirror. He stopped as soon as he noticed Sirius’ raised eyebrow.

“Really, Remus? Well, at least I am not as vain as Narcissa!” 

Remus dropped the mirror in surprise. “I am not vain!”

“Yes, you are!”

“No, I am not!”

“Are too!”

“Are not!”

“Are too!”

“Are not!”

“Who’s being childish now!?”

“You are doing the same thing!”

“Lowering yourself to my level then?”

“I am not!”

“Are too!”

“Are not!”

“As if you had far to go!”

“Hey, I am way more mature than you are!”

“Are not!”

“Are too!”

Upstairs, Harry rolled his eyes as he heard yet another duel beginning. Well, he would definitely stay out of this one.

Besides, he had homework to finish before Snape made a visit in a few days. It had taken some time to convince Remus and Sirius to allow the Potions Master to come, but eventually they had listened to his reasons.

At wand point.

Harry was pretty sure that if he had not had Snape’s help over the last few years, he would not have survived. 

Adjusting his bag, Harry decided to go to the library instead. There it would be quiet and hopefully somewhat peaceful.

Moony’s library, he decided, had to be one of the best. The walls were painted in a soft blue color that reminded him strongly of the sky, and the chairs and desks were made of some of the darkest wood he had ever seen.

It was truly beautiful to behold.

It gave off a warm, homey feel that made Harry never want to leave. 

The best, however, had to be the ceiling to floor shelves filled with every book imaginable. Remus said that he had inherited most of the collection from his parents, and the rest was donated by Sirius.

Smiling, Harry randomly chose a Potions book and flipped through it. He noticed that even though it was Remus’ least favorite subject, he had been forced to have a teacher who had only encouraged famous students, he took care of the book.

The spine was not bent, nor the pages, and there was a ribbon, used for the purposes of marking one’s place. 

Harry put it back before picking up a Potions Compendium, jointly published by the Potions Guild, and placed it on a nearby desk.

A quick search produced two more books he would need for his essay. With a small sigh and an absent fingering of his messy hair, he began the six-foot essay assigned by his most demanding professor. 

Though McGonagall came in as a close second.

Bulgaria…

Hermione Granger stretched and sighed happily.

Finally.

She was completely done with all her assignments and it had only taken two weeks to do them. Of course, she may have to redo her Charms essay, since she had not included all the various ways certain charms could be casted and what their effects could be to the caster. 

Undoing her ponytail, Hermione ran a hand through her no longer bushy hair to ease away her headache. It had taken some convincing by both her parents, but Hermione had finally consented to using a hair potion, not Sleakezy’s since a liberal amount had to be used every day, but a special ordered one. 

This hair potion only had to be applied once a week and would work no matter how many times her hair got wet. 

She was ecstatic.

Her hair was now low maintenance and it looked brilliant. A win-win situation she was sure.

Hazel eyes reflecting the sunlight, Hermione glanced at the window to see her boyfriend, Viktor Krum, practicing on his private Quidditch Pitch. 

During the year, Viktor had asked her out and after she had finally agreed, it had taken two months, he had asked her to stay with him at his mansion during the summer. Her parents had agreed, reluctantly, given the condition that they came along as well. 

Thankfully, everyone was getting along famously, and Hermione could not be happier. 

Well, she could actually.

In truth, she was quite worried about Harry, since she had not heard from him in a few weeks. And she knew better than to send an owl, since there was no telling what his relatives would do.

She had learned from experience to just wait until he sent word, no matter how long she had to wait.

“After all,” he had laughed. “If I am captured you would know almost immediately. And my relatives will not kill me They know what the consequences would be.”

Hermione frowned at the memory.

Sometimes she hated the world with what it was doing to her best friend. She hoped that when everything was over he found some sort of happiness. 

Especially with the way Dumbledore and Ron, the people that were supposed to love him, decided to treat him.

At the thought of Ron Hermione scowled.

She had seen the way he tended to treat Harry and had done her best to prevent it over the years. She had even, in some small part of her mind, hoped that Ron would change his ways, and when he did he would finally look at her.

She held on to that until last year when Ron had instigated a formal inquiry into Professor Snape’s actions.

She had not thought for a minute that he had done it to protect Harry.

No, he had done it to end the weird relationship between Harry and the professor.

It had started with Potions and wizarding culture lessons, but it had slowly developed into something more. She knew that they both regarded each other with a certain degree of affection.

Harry, she knew, thought of the dungeons now as a sort of refuge, and the professor as someone he could to talk to whenever something was bothering him.

Hermione knew that with time the relationship would develop into a romantic one, and when it did she would give her full support. Frankly, she was happy at the thought that Ron was finally away from Harry, but at the same time saddened by the thought that he had thrown away what could have been a potential lifelong friendship.

For a time, Hermione stared out the window and thought of better times and a better future.

She was sure that someday it would happen. 

Eventually she was startled out of her daydream by hands on her shoulders and a kiss on her cheek. Blushing, Hermione smiled and looked up at Viktor, whose dark eyes were filled with happiness.

“Done already?” she asked. 

“Yes, ve haf finished for today. I haf come to take you to dinner.”

“Alright,” she said, standing up and stretching once again; she chose to ignore his appraising eyes.

“Let’s go.”

As they walked through the Krum mansion, she wondered what it would be like to live here year round.

To be married…

At that thought, Hermione blushed and then spent the rest of the walk refusing to tell Viktor exactly why she had.

 

End of Chapter 7! Please review!!


	8. Chapter 8

  
Author's notes: Discovering the extent of Dumbledore's manipulation, Harry runs away to find his true friends, family, and a better life. HPSS preslash, mentions of child abuse, Ron bashing. R&R!

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own HP!

Chapter 8

Headmaster’s Office, Hogwarts

Dear Sir,

I would be more than happy to aid you this year. I am grateful for the opportunity that you have given me, and I promise to complete any tasks that you require.

Sincerely, Ron Weasley

The letter had come with a battered young owl, already looking as if it had been through a war, even though he was aware that the boy had only had it for a little over a year.

That was always the problem with living with a large family, new things became secondhand very quickly. Of course, there were some advantages…

With a relieved sigh, Albus placed the letter aside, glad that his plan was slowly recovering from the terrible shock it had received.

“Well,” he murmured to himself, “that was almost too easy. The Weasley family is always so predictable.”

Out of habit, Albus glanced over to Fawkes’ perch, adjacent to the desk, in order to receive some input from the phoenix, only to be disappointed. 

This morning he had awoken to discover that the phoenix had fled, and judging from the snapping of the familiar bond later in the day, Fawkes had found someone else to care for him and was not going to return.

Albus closed his eyes in slight pain before reaching a hand out for his next bit of correspondence.

Ah, Cornelius Fudge, once again.

Now, was this to be an order, a complaint or a question?

The man did tend to be a bit hopeless, but it was only the power he had at the school that prevented him from taking over the man’s position.

Pushing his reading glasses up higher on his nose, Albus opened the gold embossed letter (did he have to use such ostentatious stationary?) and began to read.

Albus,

It is my immense pleasure to inform you that due to your inability to hire a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, I have appointed Madam Umbridge for the year.

She will arrive on the 1st of August and will report back periodically to the Ministry.

In addition, she will be conducting investigations of the professors and the school, and will fire any incompetent professors.

Sincerely,

Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic

Albus narrowed his eyes at the letter before wandlessly sending it to land in the fire.

Bumbling fool, interfering with his school.

What exactly did he hope to achieve?

Power?

Well, he would not find it here.

There were too many people loyal to him.

Umbridge would not get very far, and, if she did, she would find that being in charge was very difficult.

Albus had no doubts as to the true reason behind her appointment to the school. They wanted him out of Hogwarts.

Desperately.

He wondered if it had anything to do with the upcoming elections.

The next piece of correspondence, delivered by an ancient owl, made him smirk.

Molly Weasley.

She, more than others, was desperate to remain on his good side since a part of the Order’s funds went into her vault, depending on how well her family performed their tasks.

Albus,

I would like to extend my deepest apologies for my son, Ronald.

I also would like to assure you that Ronald is highly aware of what he must do, and will not fail you again.

Oh, and we are having roast on Thursday, if you would like to stop by.

With my regards,

Molly

As he said, very predictable.

The final letter was from Kingsley Shacklebolt, and Auror who also worked for him. 

Officially, Shacklebolt was assigned on the Sirius Black case and had been sending out false hints for over a year.

Upon Black’s disappearance, he had asked Shacklebolt to unofficially look for him. The news was not good.

Sir,

No trace of Black has been found so far. However, I have recently heard from an informant, who says that he may know where Black may be hiding.

I will report as soon as I have word.

Shacklebolt

This news was somewhat unexpected. He knew Sirius’ nature and had expected the man to expose himself by now.

Someone had to be hiding him, that was the only reason Sirius had not shown up by now.

He would question as to whom, but Albus had a suspicion that Remus Lupin was the answer. However, he was impossible to find, since he lived in an unplottable home, as the members of the Order appointed to track Lupin had discovered.

Standing, Albus made his way to a nearby window to look out onto the empty grounds. During all times of the year, Hogwarts was beautiful, but it was during the summer that the school truly glowed.

He admired the view for a time before focusing on the window, waiting until his reflection appeared and sharpened. 

He stared at the image of himself and wondered how it had come to be that he appeared so old.

True, he was dressed at the height of fashion in glorious Acromantula spun silk robes that glowed and emphasized the crescent moons and stares that decorated it.

True, he had enough magic to make the entire wizarding world look at him in awe.

And he held one of the most prestigious positions in Wizarding Britain.

But he wondered how most of his life had been spent organizing the playing field just so he could get rid of those wizards with similar or greater power than him.

He had spent so much time on it and he still was dealing with Tom Riddle and now Harry Potter.

He had not meant for Harry’s power to be this great.

He was supposed to be powerful, but not strong enough to challenge him.

He was supposed to be a tool, a powerful weapon. Although Harry was still a child, Albus could see the immense power waiting to just spring to his fingertips with hardly a thought.

He had to be dealt with.

Albus looked at himself once more, before turning to look at one of the many trinkets that decorated his office.

No one knew what those did except himself, and there was one that was particularly useful. 

Well, it used to be useful.

Previously, it had shown, at any time, Harry’s whereabouts, but now it glowed a dull red, indicating that he was at an unplottable location. 

This indicated that either he was at an unplottable location, behind powerful wards, or he had broken the tracking charm. 

Or it could be all three.

Either way, he had no way of knowing where Harry Potter was, and that could be disastrous.

End Chapter 8! Please Review!!

A/N: Thanks to those who already have! I appreciate it!


	9. Chapter 9

  
Author's notes: Chapter 9 up! Discovering the extent of Dumbledore's manipulation, Harry runs away to find his true friends, family, and a better life. HPSS preslash, mentions of child abuse, Ron bashing. R&R!

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own HP!

A/N:Oh, and to all my reviewers, thanks so much!!

Chapter 9

Severus Snape…

Severus scowled as he glanced at the letter that gave him directions to his archenemy’s Floo.

He was against visiting Harry while Black was in residence, but the boy had insisted, so he had caved. 

He was going soft.

If it were not for the damn boy’s eyes and his complete inability to act like his father, then Severus would never have actually gotten to know him. 

But after an embarrassing confession second year, he had begun a series of detentions in order to at least make sure that the boy was educated in basic wizarding concepts. 

Somehow, in the process he had gotten to know the little brat and had found himself in the status of confidant and advisor. He had found that he did not really mind and it had developed to the point that he felt affection for the boy, and frighteningly enough, something more. 

The boy would never find out, however, since Severus was astonishingly in control of his feelings.

At the feeling of a smile, Severus quickly turned to a mirror and practiced his series of scowls, each one fiercer than the last. After all, it really wouldn’t do to smile while talking to the boy. 

He would die from embarrassment. 

After he was satisfied with his appropriately stern face, Severus activated the Floo, stated his destination, and stepped into the fire.

Moments later, he landed in an empty grate surrounded by stone walls on all sides, and before the wards could declare him an intruder, promptly stated the password.

The effect was immediate.

The stone walls receded, a homely sitting room appeared, and Severus was given passage into the home of Lupin, Potter, and Black. Using a quick spell to remove the soot from his robes, Severus stepped into the room, noting the lack of Gryffindor colors. 

Surprising that, since he was in the lion’s den itself.

Severus took a few moments to eye the mementos along the walls. He found a surprising number of photos, all of which, he noted, contained a teen Harry. 

The wolf and godmutt must be lonely, he noted with a mixture of smugness and sympathy.

Truthfully, the grudge against the Marauders was as strong as ever, and he was not sure if it would ever die.

But for Harry’s sake, he would try to get along. 

It was not until he was eyeing the knickknacks in the corner close to the fireplace when the door finally opened.

His head snapped ‘round and he eyed his enemy, Sirius Black, with distaste as the shaggy black haired mutt peered into the room. 

The man seemed to have recovered well from his stint in Azkaban, though he still had that haunted look that everyone who had been to the prison developed.

Occasionally, the look appeared in Severus’ eyes as well.

As Black stepped into the room and locked the door behind him, Severus pulled out his wand and assumed a dueling stance.

“You just couldn’t stay away,” Black snarled, features morphed with rage. “How many times do I have to tell you that I do not want your overly large nose or your greasy hair near my godson!?”

“And how many times do I have to remind you Black that it is not up to you. Both Potter and Lupin expressed the wish that I visit,” Severus responded smoothly, eyes not leaving his opponent’s form.

Sirius scoffed and erected a somewhat shaky shield, watching as Severus did the same, albeit it was stronger. 

“I don’t believe a word you say, and I’m going to make sure that you leave and don’t come back!” 

And with that, the duel was on.

Severus was surprised when Black started with a minor Dark Arts spell, one that was in a legal gray area, but readjusted his tactics and responded.

Spells flashed back and forth, rebounding off shields and destroying the objects in the room. 

It wasn’t until Severus downed his opponent with a Blasting Curse that destroyed his shield, and slipped in a nonverbal Binding Spell that he felt victory. 

He gazed at his petrified opponent and smirked triumphantly, a particularly nasty Blinding Curse on his lips. It would be so simple to blind him and leave him in the dark for days. 

But…the boy would have a fit and he would have to deal with it.

Mentally he sighed and decided to do something less drastic. 

He gazed into space for a moment before inspiration struck. Yes, that would do nicely. 

Moments later, as Severus stepped out of the room, a shriek echoed through the house as Sirius Black admired his new Slytherin features-namely an overly large nose and very greasy hair.

Severus walked down the hallway, lined with yet more portraits, and into the kitchen, where, he found Lupin and Harry sharing a pot of tea and a plate of chocolate biscuits. 

Severus cleared his throat and awaited the reactions of the two, aware that they had most likely heard the entire thing. 

“Done playing like children, are we?” Lupin asked mildly.

Severus felt shame slightly rise up in him before he crushed it with his satisfaction. 

“No,” he replied evenly. “Just making sure that Black remembers exactly how idiotic he truly is.” 

Harry snorted at that and looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “I don’t think hexing him will do it. It just makes him more determined to have revenge, as I’m sure you recall.” 

This time Severus did feel a dull flush of shame, but resolutely ignored it as he sat down at the table. 

“Really, Harry, I’m not sure what you are referring to.” Harry rolled his eyes, captivating Severus as he caught the glow of the emerald eyes in the light. 

“Right, I’m sure you don’t.”

The next few minutes were spent devouring the remainder of the biscuits, Harry knew of his immense craving for chocolate, and waiting for Black to recover from his humiliation and join them in the kitchen.

Eventually, Harry and Lupin were impatient enough to begin heckling Black. Which was hilarious in and of itself, since neither of them was the sort to do that.

“Come on, Siri! Surely it can’t be that bad!” Harry exclaimed, craning his head around the door to see if Black had emerged. 

“Oh, really Padfoot! Whatever it is can be fixed.”

“…”

“You’ve probably had worse! C’mon! We’re all waiting!” Harry called, camera in hand. 

“Where did you get that?” Severus asked, wand at the ready, just in case Black came through the doorway intent on murder. Unfortunately, he was ignored, since the other two were too intent on their victim.

“Let’s go! C’mon already!”

“What’d he do, turn your hair green and silver?”

“You’ve done much worse than that!”

“Remember our second year when you charmed the armored knights to kiss anyone that walked by?”

“Surely you can handle whatever Professor Snape did!” 

“Stop being such a sissy, Padfoot!”

When no answer still came from the sitting room, Lupin frowned lightly before turning to Harry. “Why don’t you two get started while I drag Padfoot out. I’ll call you when dinner is ready.” 

Harry gave a beaming smile, before grabbing Severus’ hand and dragging him down a nearby set of stairs. They emerged in a small basement that had been converted into a makeshift Potions lab (Sirius had forbidden Severus from going into his). 

Selecting one of the nearby chairs, Severus took a seat, closely followed by Harry. “So, what exactly did you do?” 

Severus smirked and leaned back in the chair. “Black has found that he now closely resembles myself.” 

Harry gaped a moment before bursting into an uncontrollable fit of laughter. “I-I can’t believe you did that!”

Severus waited a moment, since Harry had fallen out of his chair, for him to stop rolling around on the floor. Finally, he calmed down and regained his seat. 

“No wonder Siri’s in shock. That was purely evil, Sev.” 

“Well, it had to be done. What other action could I have taken? Just stunned the prat and left him alone when he was determined to commit murder? The fool had to learn a lesson.” 

Harry opened his mouth, prepared to reply, but was interrupted by the sound of running water upstairs.

Both of them looked at the ceiling. 

“Well, either that was Remus throwing Siri in the tub to knock some sense into him or…” 

“Black threw himself in there in a desperate attempt to rid himself of his greasy hair. Which he will find impossible, since the spell is set to last for the next twenty-four hours.”

“You are unbelievable,” Harry noted, green eyes flashing in amusement. 

“Now,” Severus stated, suddenly serious. “How have you been lately? Any visions, unusual dreams?” 

Fiddling with the edge of his robe, Harry shook his head. “Nothing more than the usual dreams. Siri’s fixed a potion to help with the visions, and it seems to be working.” 

Severus frowned, reached over, and stopped Harry’s nervous movements. “I will have a look at this potion myself. What about your decision to leave? What prompted it?” 

Swallowing, Harry looked away briefly, acutely feeling the warmth of the man’s hand, still on his. “The Dursleys’ were being more than a little annoying this summer, and between that and what happened at the end of the year…” 

“You couldn’t stand it anymore,” Severus finished. 

Wordlessly, Harry nodded.

Tightening his hold, Severus waited until Harry looked at him. “How badly did they hurt you? And don’t bother trying to lie to me, I know you well enough to tell when you do.” 

Harry took a deep breath. “More than usual. They…” his voice broke, and he swallowed. 

“They encouraged Vernon to discipline me,” he said bitterly, face twisting in a mixture of anger and sadness as he remembered.

“He broke a few bones, used the belt more often. My magic did a good bit of the healing, but some of it still lingered.”

His face remained blank, but inside Severus’ emotions were raging. 

Idiotic Muggles.

If only they knew how precious children were in the magical world. 

“Then I should suppose that you only need Bruise Balm?” he asked gently, concern in his eyes.

“And something for burns as well,” Harry whispered, before looking down at his feet. 

Severus sighed and then leaned back in his chair, releasing Harry completely.

“Did you hear from Ms. Granger at all this summer?” he asked silkily, watching Harry closely.

“No, I told her to wait until I wrote her. The Dursleys, you know.” 

“Well, at least one of your friends has not become a complete idiot.” Harry gave a slight smile and looked down. 

“Ron wasn’t really an idiot, he was just…” 

“Weasley was a foolish, selfish young idiot, who cared only for himself,” Severus said firmly.

“And I am grateful that you no longer associate with him.” Harry swallowed, but did not respond.

Severus let the silence extend for a few moments before speaking. “What potion did you want to try today?”

“I thought about learning the Draught of Peace. I have heard that it will appear on the OWLs.” 

Severus nodded and then stood to grab a nearby textbook. “Gather your ingredients and begin to set up the potion,” he instructed as he flipped open to the proper page. 

Harry stood and before Severus could even contemplate his actions, rushed over and gave him a brief hug before going to the nearby storage cupboard.

Severus glared at Harry’s retreating back, but then allowed a small smile to creep through.

The brat always had some nerve…

He knew that eventually they would develop a relationship, but it would not be for several more years.

In the meantime, he would encourage Harry to trust him completely and eventually love him.

Remus Lupin…

Snickering, Remus gazed at Sirius’ new features.

It had taken a lot of coaxing and a firm promise not to laugh before Sirius let him in the room.

Naturally, he hadn’t promised to take a picture, and had done so, immediately vanishing the camera to a safe hiding place.

Sirius, with his new nose and hair, looked completely ridiculous, and he knew it.

When Remus walked in he was crouched in a corner of the room, resolutely staring at the wall.

Remus had to wait until he was sure that he would not burst into laughter before he spoke.

“It’s not that bad, Siri,” he stated calmly, absently brushing some dust off his woolen trousers.

Sirius choked and let out a loud snort of disbelief.

“You’re lying.” 

Remus blinked in mock outrage. “I assure you that I most definitely am not. You’ve known me long enough to know that I do not lie.”

“Only when you want to make me feel better. Or you want me to stop sulking.”

Remus rolled his eyes, but didn’t respond. 

“I can’t believe Snivellus did this to me!” Sirius exclaimed, running a hand through his hair in anger.

Some of the strands fell loose and fell in front of his face, emphasizing his resemblance to Severus even more. 

Remus had to pinch himself to keep from laughing.

“I would say,” he remarked dryly. “That you absolutely deserved it. Especially after you attacked him first.”

“But who knows what he would have done if I didn’t,” Sirius wailed.

“He could have hexed the entire house before I got to him! I was taking preventative action!”

“I hate to tell you this Padfoot, but you were just acting like a child.”

Sirius huffed and turned his back to Remus. 

Silence reigned for several minutes.

“Fine,” Sirius muttered. “I was being stupid. Now can you tell me how to fix this?” 

Remus waved his wand lazily, frowned, and then waved it once again. 

“I’m afraid, Sirius, that I can’t undo it. The spell looks like it will last for the next day. You could try, however, to take a shower. Maybe you’d at least fix the hair.”

“I suppose.”

“Well, you might want to hurry then. Otherwise, I’ll start thinking you’re related to Severus,” he teased, watching in amusement as Sirius’ back straightened in outrage.

Not a moment later he was up and dashing out the door.

“No, I won’t let that happen,” he wailed, feet pounding as he ran for the shower. 

Remus winced, when, at the stairs, he heard Sirius trip and land with a hard thud.

He waited until he heard the bathroom door shut and the water start running before he burst out laughing. 

Really, that was just too hilarious.

End of Chapter 9!

Please review. It’s disconcerting to put all this effort into this story, receive almost nothing in return. Please don’t make me use my online puppy dog eyes.


	10. Chapter 10

  
Author's notes: Chapter 10 up! Discovering the extent of Dumbledore's manipulation, Harry runs away to find his true friends, family, and a better life. HPSS preslash, mentions of child abuse, Ron bashing. R&R!

* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own HP!

A/N: Sorry for the wait! I got into a major writer’s block last week and I finally broke through it. Hope you enjoy this chapter and please review! Also, thanks to all those who have!

Chapter 10

He could hardly believe it, but Vernon was reasonably sure that he was dead. 

The evening of his death had been relatively normal. He’d punished his freak of a nephew for just existing, had an exquisite supper, and had settled in to watch the telly upstairs before falling asleep. 

The normality had ended, however, when he was roughly awoken some time later by people in dark cloaks and white masks. He’d thought it had been robbers until they’d pulled out those sticks that those freaks were fond of using. 

He’d frozen in terror and that had been enough for the freaks to do something to Petunia; she hadn’t moved no matter what he did. 

He’d shook her and yelled her name, but she’d remained still. 

Then they had turned their attention to him and it was horrific.

They had waved their wooden sticks and he had felt the worst pain he had ever felt until they waved them once again.

He didn’t know how long he had suffered the rounds of torture, but he knew that it had ended in a flash of green light. 

The last thing he’d heard was the high-pitched screams of his son.

And now he was dead, and it was nothing like he thought it would be.

For ages, he had floated in an endless dark, waiting for something unknown. Waiting for what, he didn’t know. 

After all, no one ever made him wait. 

He had always been an important man at the company; he was used to being feared. His life had been perfect; well until the freak had shown up on his doorstep. 

Vernon snorted to himself.

That had been the turning point.

He remembered, with startling clarity, all of the times the boy had shown signs of his freakishness. Each incident had made Petunia more afraid, so he began to discipline the boy.

It took a bit of work before he had the perfect method, but eventually he managed to beat almost all of it out of the freak.

Or so he thought.

When that dratted letter showed up, followed by hundreds of others, he had taken drastic measures to keep the freakishness away from his family. He smirked in satisfaction as he recalled the beatings he had given the boy.

In the end, though, he had failed and the boy went to that school, which, actually proved to be a blessing in disguise. 

Not having to deal with the freak during the year had been something of a relief.

And, of course, when the boy returned during the summer holidays Vernon took it as his chance to get out the past year’s aggression.

It proved to be an effective measure. 

He’d thought that things would go on as they were until the boy was of age, but those freaks had the nerve to kill him off.

And now he was floating in space.

All of a sudden, Vernon was blinded by an intense light. Blinking madly, he eventually was able to see that the light was a sort of door that looked as if it led to some sort of room.

Shrugging, Vernon closed his eyes and stepped through. 

He landed in a plain room with four white walls and a black and white checkered floor. The room was entirely empty except for a small oak desk against the far wall.

This desk was inhabited by a woman, who strongly resembled Mary I, a previous queen of England. On the left side of the desk was a black hole. It was about twice the size of himself, and it looked to be bottomless. 

As he moved closer to the desk, he could see hints of light coming from the right side of the desk. This light came from a set of stairs that led into the ceiling.

Or what he assumed to be the ceiling, since the stairs disappeared into a light that was so bright it made his eyes water in pain.

Slightly nervous, but refusing to show it, Vernon stepped up to the desk. “You,” he stated imperiously. “Tell me where I am, right now.” 

The Mary, as he thought of her, didn’t look up or even pause in her writing. 

Vernon narrowed his eyes and assumed his most intimidating stance. “I asked you a question,” he growled, face purpling in rage. 

The Mary kept on writing. 

Vernon scowled and adjusted his weight accordingly. She should be paying attention to him, the hideous woman.

“I am talking to you!” he barked. “I demand that you answer me!”

The writing paused and the woman looked up. “I am well aware of whom you are talking to. Now, if you will close your mouth I can judge you and send you on your way.” 

“Judge me?”

Instead of answering, the Mary looked at her paperwork and frowned. Finally, she cleared her throat and stood.

“Vernon Dursley, you are to be sent to the realm of Hell for your actions during your lifetime. 

You are sentenced to an eternity of torture; pardon to the upper realm will only be offered after you have completely repented.

Please step to the left. A guide will meet you at the bottom.”

Numbly, Vernon moved to step in front of the hole, trying to process the Mary’s words. 

Finally, they seemed to register.

“Now, wait just one second!” he began hotly, mustache quivering in anger. “You can’t do this to me! You can’t just order me around like this!”

The Mary rolled her eyes and pressed a button. A buzzer sounded and Vernon was suddenly pushed forward, and then he was falling. 

He fell for what seemed to be an interminable length of time before he landed on a stone floor. 

Vernon glanced around as he hauled himself to his feet, and discovered that he was in the entrance hall of a large building.

Determined to figure out why exactly he had been sent here of all places, Vernon took several steps only to be stopped by a soft voice.

“What are you doing?” 

Vernon turned and found himself face to face with a very tall man who was wearing freakish clothes. He paled. 

“You are not to go anywhere without me,” the man hissed, pale eyes glowing. 

Vernon bristled in outrage. Who was he to tell him what to do? 

“Just who do you think you are!?” 

The man sniffed haughtily and raised his stick. Vernon stumbled back in sudden fear.

“I am called Grindelwald and I am charged with torturing you for as long as I see fit, worthless Muggle,” he stated softly. 

Vernon eyes widened. 

“You’ll enjoy it, I’m sure.”

Vernon screamed.

-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-

Harry hunched over a cup of hot chocolate as he thought over Remus’ words. 

It was hard to believe that they were…well…gone. 

Sure, he had always despised his relatives for their treatment of him, but for them to be dead… 

His only family… 

Well, it was almost unthinkable. 

Surprisingly, he felt his eyes water. He squeezed them shut for a moment before turning to look at his godfather.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Harry whispered. 

Sirius winced and looked at his lover for support. Remus shook his head faintly, signaling that Sirius was on his own.

“Well, kiddo. We just didn’t know how to break it to you. And, well, you were already so down,” he said, eyes terribly sad.

Harry smiled faintly.

Well, he hadn’t lost his only family. 

Remus and Sirius would always be there for him.

“That’s alright,” he said faintly, and took a sip of the hot chocolate.

“Could you answer a question though?” 

Sirius perked up, eager to help his godson in any way possible.

“Anything,” he said earnestly, earning an amused snort from Remus.

“Where do babies come from?”

Remus fell out of his chair in hysterical laughter, while Sirius choked in surprise and shock.

Harry smiled as Sirius blushed bright red and began to mutter to himself.

Yes, they were his family. 

And he couldn’t ask for anyone better.

-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-

Hermione,

I finally got away from Privet Drive, though it wasn’t in the usual manner. I kind of left on my own, and before you lecture me; I’ll just let you know that it was actually a good decision, since Death Eaters attacked right after I left. Write me back.

Harry

Hermione’s response came in the form of a Howler. 

Harry,

WHAT ON EARTH WERE YOU THINKING? YOU COULD HAVE BEEN KILLED! WRITE ME BACK AND EXPLAIN!

NOW!

Harry was forced to write his response back immediately, since Hermione’s new owl, Diana, pecked him until he put quill to parchment.

Hermione, 

I’m fine. I just couldn’t take it any longer. They…got worse. And I couldn’t trust the headmaster anymore. I made it to Snuffles’ though. It’s unplottable, and yes, I’ve already started on my homework.

Harry

Hermione rolled her eyes as she read the latest letter. Honestly, he could have gotten himself killed.

Harry,

Are you sure you’re alright? I’m going to come over and check, just to make sure. Could you ask Snuffles if I can?”

Hermione

Remus and Sirius agreed wholeheartedly for the visit. After all, they knew how lonely he was, and they knew that having a friend would help immensely.

Hermione, 

Snuffles’ said it was fine. If you want you could write the twins and see if they want to come as well. I miss their jokes.

Harry

Hermione smiled as she wrote her letter. The twins had always been strong believers in Harry, and they would do anything for him.

Harry,

Fred and George are all set. Could you manage a visit to Diagon Alley? Snuffles could arrange further transport from there.

Hermione

A Portkey was decided upon after the meeting in Diagon Alley. Remus and Sirius agreed only after Harry promised to follow all the rules they set out for the excursion.

Hermione,

Meet us Saturday morning around nine. You know where.

Harry

-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-

Dumbledore,

I see that the boy slipped out of your grasp, yet again. Is he not being the perfect little tool? I’m seeing history repeat itself.

Lord Voldemort

Dumbledore glared at the offensive letter that had been delivered by an extremely arrogant raven. Angrily, he began writing out his response.

Tom,

You are mistaken. I have him perfectly where I want him. And I will enjoy crushing him like I crushed you. Won’t it be a pity? Your only heir, destroyed.

I win.

Albus Dumbledore

Voldemort smirked as he glanced at the thoughtless response. Really, the old man was slipping if he thought this would anger him. 

Dumbledore, 

You are a fool, as always. And for your offense against me and mine I will have my revenge, no matter how long it takes.

Lord Voldemort

Another object on his desk shattered as he brandished his wand in anger. Dumbledore snarled and grabbed his quill.

Tom,

We shall see.

Albus Dumbledore

Voldemort watched as his raven flew out the window with his response to the newest letter. The old fool always wanted to have the last word.

Dumbledore,

We shall.

Lord Voldemort

-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-

Sir,

I have found a lead. I believe I may have found their hiding place. I will let you know as the situation progresses.

Shacklebolt

Dumbledore smirked in satisfaction. Finally, something seemed to be going his way. Hopefully, Kingsley would be able to locate the boy, and he would have everything back to normal soon.

-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-

Harry,

We have an idea for the winnings you gave us. We’ll give you the news when we see you. You’ll be thrilled at what we’ve thought up!

Fred and George

Harry grinned as he read their letter. He supposed that it was their roundabout way of saying that they had heard from Hermione. He couldn’t wait to see them again. They always knew how to cheer him up.

-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-

The twins grinned at the final letter from Hermione.

Finally, they would be getting out of the house and away from their Dumbledore-worshipping family. 

“Only a few days from now,” Fred remarked. 

George nodded and flopped down on his bed, followed immediately by his brother.

“I’m thinking that once we leave we shouldn’t return.”

“I agree,” Fred said quietly. “Seeing our family turn out like this has completely turned me off from remaining in this house.”

“Yeah, did you see Mum yesterday? Fussing over Ron since he’s been made a new Prefect.”

Fred snorted. “Dumbledore’s lapdog, really.”

George idly picked at the shabby blue comforter on the bedspread, passed down from their eldest brother, Bill.

“And it’d be nice to get away from his prattling. If I hear one more time about his plans to control Harry one more time…” George practically snarled, tearing a hole in the comforter.

“Ickle Ronniekins will learn a lesson,” Fred finished, eyeing the rows of prank items they had been developing this summer. “A spectacular one that I am sure he will never forget.”

“We should start packing,” Fred reminded his brother. “It will take some time to ensure that nothing will explode.”

“Alright,” George agreed. “But only if we agree to prank out ickle brother before we depart,” he grandly state, striking a gallant pose.

It was ruined, however, when Fred quickly pushed him over, causing him to ungracefully fall to the floor.

“Hurry up,” Fred stated. “We need to be ready for our escape. We can’t get caught.”

George smirked. “When have we ever gotten caught?”

End of Chapter 10! Please review!


	11. Chapter 11

  
Author's notes: Chapter 11 up!  


* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own HP!

Chapter 11

It was a pleasant evening at the Burrow, the night before the twins were due to meet Hermione and Harry at Diagon Alley. 

In the summer twilight, the trees were swaying in a gentle wind, the crickets were chirping, and the ramshackle house was alive with lights.

After having consumed a large amount of hearty stew, the Weasley clan had settled down for the evening. 

Molly and Arthur, the head of household and spouse respectively, had claimed the larger of two couches in the parlor, and were comfortably listening to Celestina Warbeck on the Wizarding Wireless Network.

Molly leaned her head on her husband’s shoulder as she listened. It was difficult to believe that she had another Prefect in the family.

She had thought that Percy was the last one, what with the twins’ penchant for mischief, and Ron and Ginny’s temper tantrums. Thankfully, Ron had finally shown some potential and had been granted the Prefect badge

. In addition to that, he had been given a special task by Dumbledore himself. Every time she thought about it, she nearly went into a tizzy.

It was so unbelievable! 

Maybe this would have an impact on Arthur’s career as well.

Goodness knows that he was getting nowhere in that job of his. She sighed happily and closed her eyes.

Who would have believed that the Weasley family would ever have been able to crawl out of the hole that they dug themselves into so many years ago?

-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-

Arthur Weasley was a rather nice person, most people would say. He never spoke out in anger, followed all Ministry regulations to the tee, and helped anyone he could.

At that moment, however, Arthur felt anything but nice. 

He loved his children, he really did, but what Ron had done to Harry was unforgivable. Pretending to be that boy’s friend was one thing, but spying on him for Dumbledore was another. 

As early as Ron’s first year he had attempted to convince him to be a good friend, a good person, but his youngest son had been quickly swayed by Dumbledore’s ideals.

“For the greater good.”

That was Dumbledore’s motto, and it had driven Arthur completely out of the old man’s camp before Percy had gone to Hogwarts. 

Naturally, his wife was still firmly on the Headmaster’s side, and was all too happy to surrender their children to that man’s machinations.

Arthur turned his gaze to his wife’s sleeping face, beautiful in its’ contentment. If only she would listen to him for once…

However, she was too focused on regaining the family glory, which had been lost over a century ago in a famous duel between his ancestor and Lucius Malfoy’s ancestor. 

Following the loss of honor, when his ancestor had attempted to hex Malfoy in the back, had been the loss of money when the family had lost its entire fortune in a futile desire to protect itself from the Malfoy family.

Since then the Weasleys had been cursed with poverty and low social standing. Not that he minded, of course, since his low level Ministry job kept him from notice, and let him pursue the things that he loved.

Molly wanted more, had always wanted more, and would not let herself, or the rest of the family relax until she had gotten what she wanted. 

He looked at the flickering flames in the fireplace and wished that he could burn all the misery away.

-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-

Nearby in the parlor, Ginny was engaged in the newest edition of Witch Weekly. The main article was of Harry Potter, and Ginny couldn’t be any happier.

Ever since she had first caught sight of him, she had been in love, and time and distance hadn’t been able to change that.

It had been a thrill, halfway through her first year, when she had been invited up to the headmaster’s office.

It was during their conversation that Professor Dumbledore had promised her Harry Potter, if she did a few things for him in return.

It was now almost two years later, and Ginny knew that she was closer to gaining what was hers. 

All she had to do was stick by Harry’s side once he returned to Hogwarts, and wait for him to turn to her in his time of need.

Ginny grinned and hugged the magazine close.

She couldn’t wait.

Think of all the beautiful children they would have. 

-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-

Ron lay in his shabby, creaking bed and stared at the ceiling. 

He couldn’t believe it. 

For the first time in his life he had gained the attention of his parents as he did something that none of his brothers had done.

Although Percy had already been a Prefect, along with Bill, neither one of them had been given such an important task.

He felt himself swell with pride as he thought of what he would gain. A straight ticket to the Auror Academy if he wanted, or a chance at professional Quidditch.

It all depended on whether or not he succeeded. 

And he would.

His mother would make sure of that.

Since his return from school she had spent the days tutoring him. Ron was sure that by the time he returned to school he would be ahead of his classmates. 

Well, except for Hermione. 

At the thought of Hermione, he sighed and burrowed his head into his pillow. 

He’d tried to get her to notice him, but she had spent all her time on Harry, and then later, Viktor Krum. 

He knew that he’d lost his chance to have a relationship, especially after the incident with the professor. However, maybe he might still have a chance.

Lavender Brown was still available, and she was more than a little easy.

Maybe he’d be able to force Hermione’s hand and get her to realize her love for him. 

Yes, that would do perfectly.

-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-

Late that night, Fred and George grinned mischievously as they crept towards Ron’s room. 

They had spent the entire evening perfecting their prank and were now ready to unleash it on their unsuspecting git of a brother.

Opening the door to his room, they crept in silently planted their prank item and crept out again.

Snickering to themselves, they snuck back into their beds and eagerly waited for the morning to arrive. 

-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-

At precisely seven o’clock the next morning Ron’s alarm went off.

Yawning, he forced himself out of bed and into the bathroom.

Oddly enough, he encountered no one on his trip to the only bathroom on the floor, which should have sparked a good amount of worry in his brain if he were awake enough to realize it. 

Sadly enough, clarity did not come to him until he looked into the mirror. 

At five after seven, Ron’s scream echoed through the house at such a volume and pitch, that every window was shattered, including those spelled to be unbreakable.

Ron had discovered, in that early hour of the morning, that he had been transformed into a female.

And a quite unattractive one, at that.

Curled up in their beds, Fred and George snickered almost silently, and congratulated themselves on a job well done.

-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-

Lord Voldemort’s manor was highly secure, unplottable, and surrounded by various wards and charms. 

His manor was so difficult to find that his Death Eaters could only find it if he called them. This might have resulted in a lonely existence, if it were not for his right hand man (and best friend) Lucius Malfoy. 

Lucius was the only one of his followers that knew the location of his manor and stayed there a few days a week.

Aside from Lucius, however, his location was highly secure.

This was why it was such a surprise when he woke up this morning to find a snowy white owl preening herself on his oak dresser. 

Tom blinked and stared at the presumptious owl. 

“How in the bloody hell…” he muttered.

Crimson eyes glancing at the owl, Tom quickly threw on a black work robe over a pair of muggle pants and a dress shirt.

“Who are you from?” he asked, reaching out to grab the offending letter. 

“…”

Tom gazed at the letter and his eyes widened in shock.

“Merlin…Why has Potter, of all people, sent me a letter?”

He hadn’t thought that Potter had figured out anything, but maybe he at least suspected…

Voldemort, 

We need to talk.

I know you have answers and I want them.

Send your reply through Hedwig. HP

Tom smirked at the letter. Well, it looked as if the Golden Boy was finally seeing past Dumbledore’s rose-tinted glasses. 

Slowly the smirk faded. But…what should he tell the boy? If he told him too much or too little he would run straight back into the old fool’s arms without thinking.

And he had waited too long for anything to mess up his plans. 

Wandlessly conjuring some parchment and ink, he strode over to his desk to write out a brief reply.

Potter,

I can’t give you all the answers, but the ones I have will make you think. 

Do you really want to know? 

In the meantime, here’s some food for thought: I didn’t kill your parents, but I know who did.

Lord Voldemort

Seconds after he finished writing the owl landed on the desk and sharply pecked him on the hand.

“Ow! Bloody bird!” Hedwig hooted imperiously and then stuck out her leg. Tom glared at the offending owl, but quickly tied the roll of parchment and then jumped out of the way as she jumped in the air and flew out the window.

From his perch on the floor, Tom gazed at the window for several moments, wondering how on earth his grandson would take the news and what exactly he would do with the information. 

-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-

Diagon Alley…

Hermione bit her lip nervously as she stared at the remnants of her fudge sundae from Fortescue’s Ice Cream Shop. 

She’d been here for ten minutes and Harry still had not shown up. In a way, she almost didn’t want him to.

It would be easier if Dumbledore didn’t have a single chance to grab him.

“Well, what do we have here? No one here with you today?” Hermione’s head shot up and saw Fred and George Weasley standing less a few feet away from her, their arms around each other and grinning from ear to ear. 

Hermione rolled her eyes and pushed a strand of hair out of her face. “Well, it’s about time you two showed up!”

If possible, their grins widened even further and Hermione couldn’t help matching them. As they took their seats at the table, almost knocking an elderly witch over in the process, she kept a sharp eye out for Harry, who was expected to arrive at any minute.

“So, how’s the family been?” Fred asked, as he popped out a piece of parchment littered with symbols and numbers.

Craning her neck, Hermione could almost make out what looked to be a rune. 

“Fine,” she answered. “We had a great vacation in Bulgaria.” 

George snickered as he scratched out a few notes. “Poor little Ronniekins was more than a little upset by your decision to spend the summer with Krum.” 

“Heartbroken he was,” Fred continued. 

“Naturally,” George said. “We took advantage of his distraction and managed to torture him all summer long.”

Hermione smiled and tilted her head to read the writing, however each time she tried they tilted the parchment in such a way that she could not read a thing.

Eventually, she gave up and sighed.

“What are you two working on?” 

Both twins looked up and her and gave secret little smiles. “We have ideas for a business venture,” Fred stated, absently scratching his chin as he circled a number. 

“And with help from our backer, we’ll be ready to open within the year,” George finished as he drew a line from one end of the parchment to another.

Hermione blinked, surprised at the twins entrepreneurship. “You do know that most small businesses fail their first year?”

“Ah,” Fred smirked. “We don’t plan to be a small business.” 

“Yes, we plan to make quite a profit and open at least two stores within the next five years,” George stated calmly. 

“But,” she protested, worried that they hadn’t thought everything completely through. “It’s a big step and it takes so much commitment…”

“Hey, what’s going on?” a voice interrupted, causing Hermione to scowl in irritation. 

Abruptly she turned, glaring at the intruder for interrupting her lecture. Immediately it softened into a smile.

“Harry,” she squealed, jumping up to give him a hug. “How are you? You are all right, aren’t you!? I know you said you were, but I still worried, and…” 

She trailed off when she noticed that she was nagging him again. Hermione blushed and stepped back a bit. 

“Sorry,” she muttered, absently brushing dust off her jeans in embarrassment.

“It’s all right,” Harry stated. “Sorry for the wait, though, I got delayed at Flourish and Blotts. They had a few new books on charms I wanted to get.”

“S’alright, mate,” Fred said, reaching out to give Harry a friendly pat on the shoulder.

“Anyway, we’ve got so many ideas, the wizarding world won’t know what hit them,” George said, pocketing the parchment as they stood.

“We can’t wait to fill you in, mate.”

Harry smiled warily, but said nothing. Truth be told, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know what they had created.

The twins’ minds were dangerous after all. Deciding to change the subject, Harry reached into his robes and withdrew the Portkey specially made for the visit.

“Are you guys ready to go? I really don’t want to be here any longer than necessary.”

The other three nodded. Grabbing her bag, Hermione followed the others to a shadowed corner in a narrow side street. A few moments later she was spinning, watching colors flash around her as she traveled through space.

Finally, she landed with a thump in a small, tastefully decorated sitting room.

“Well,” Harry coughed, slowly standing up from his sprawled out position on the floor. “Welcome to Moon’s Paw for as long as you want to stay.”

Hermione smiled. Well, here she was. Her new home until all this mess was finished.

End of Chapter 11! Please review!!


	12. Chapter 12

  
Author's notes: Chapter 12  


* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own HP!

Chapter 12

Moon’s Paw-Library

Out of all the rooms in the cottage, the library had to be Harry’s favorite.

Nothing could quite compare to the scent of the leather bindings, the shelves upon shelves of books, and the warm cozy atmosphere.

It spoke of home the way no place had ever done in his short lifetime. 

Oftentimes, he would find himself drifting into the library for answers to his homework, when he was unable to sleep, and just for a quiet moment to think (Moony and Padfoot tended to very boisterous).

It only took a minute or two, but he always was able to achieve complete relaxation in this diminutive haven.

Right now, however, it was far from being a place of paradise. 

“So, what happened?” 

Harry sighed, his emerald eyes solemn as he gazed at the tattered tabletop in front of him. “The Dursleys were being worse than normal. They…” 

Hermione stared at him sadly. “Don’t worry. You don’t have to go into it.”

He took a deep breath, blocking out the memories of Number Four, Privet Drive. “And Dumbledore…

I think he’s been lying to me. 

I knew, before the summer, that he was trying to make me into a weapon. 

I knew that he hadn’t enlightened me as to my true purpose in the war.

So, when I got the chance, I left. I didn’t want to be a pawn anymore.”

“And now,” she pressed gently, sensing that Harry was hiding something big. 

“Well, I wrote a letter to Voldemort, ‘cause I figured that he’d know what Dumbledore isn’t telling me.” 

“Harry,” Hermione breathed in shock. “I can’t believe you did that!”

“Yeah, I know. I can’t believe I did it either. Anyway, he wrote me back,” he said so nonchalantly, that Hermione almost missed it.

She gasped sharply, her eyes wide. “Please tell me you at least checked for curses,” Hermione moaned, running her hands through her hair.

Offended, Harry nodded. “Of course, I’m not stupid, you know. Anyway,” he said, reaching into his pocket. “Here is the letter.”

Hermione snatched it off the table, dropping it moments later as the message registered. 

“But if he didn’t kill them…Who did?” 

“That’s what I want to know,” Harry said grimly. 

“So, what are you going to write back?” Harry briefly rolled his eyes. No matter what, Hermione’s curiosity would always stay the same.

“You do know that curiosity killed the cat, right?” he asked, earning him a sharp punch from his friend.

Hermione mock glared. “Hush you, and tell me,” she warned, raising a fist in warning. 

“I’m going to ask him to tell me what he knows, of course.”

“And you said that I’m curious,” Hermione smirked, eyeing the books piled on Harry’s side of the table.

She tried to ignore her own overwhelming curiosity, since Harry did look stressed, but when was the last time he voluntarily researched anything? 

“Harry, what are those books for?” 

“I’m researching Dumbledore,” he said simply, absently rolling up the sleeves of his robe.

“What!? Why!?” Hermione exclaimed. 

“I don’t think he is what he says he is. He’s just a little too…perfect. Plus, if he’s lying to me about my purpose in the war, what else is he lying about?” 

Hermione blinked in surprise at his reasoning. “Good point. Do you want any help?” 

Harry shrugged, managing to hide a small grin. “All right.”

Nodding briskly, Hermione picked up one of the books, A Comprehensive Look at the Downfall of Grindelwald, and began to read. 

The next few hours were spent with only the sounds of pages turning, and the scratching of quills.

Their intense research was abruptly ended at noon in the form of Harry’s overexcited godfather, Sirius. 

“Hey, you two. It’s time for lunch and I risked my life to make it, so you better hurry up,” he confided, beaming at them. 

Harry arched an eyebrow, eerily reminiscent of Snape. 

“What’d you make? Toast?” Harry asked, frowning at the thought of Sirius being able to make anything edible.

Hermione giggled, but immediately hid it under the glare of the dark haired animagus. 

“Hah, hah. You’re hilarious, Harry,” he muttered. “For your information I made stew, and I had Moony taste it first. So there!” Sirius retorted childishly, sticking out his tongue. 

“Did he die?” Harry gasped, widening his eyes innocently. 

“No, he did not die! Now, go eat before I make you the permanent food testers.” 

This had an immediate reaction. 

The teenagers fled so fast that their chairs tipped over, landing on the floor with a crash. One, unfortunately, had a mind of its’ own and decided to fly out and land painfully on Sirius’ foot.

Cursing, Sirius jumped up and down in agony on his one good foot, and wondered what revenge he could take against the teens.

He knew that chairs did not fly that far without help. 

Unless, the chairs were still angry about the first time he had sat in them and commented on their extremely uncomfortable seats.

Sirius sighed. 

Sometimes the magical world could be so difficult. 

-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-

Lunch was a boisterous affair, and how could it not be with the Weasley twins in attendance? 

They too had been secluded away in their room, with only the occasional explosion to announce their presence. 

Remus, who had enjoyed a popular fiction novel that morning, looked on in amusement as the twins finished each other’s sentences, threw rolls at each other, and made as many jokes as possible.

Sirius, once he had recovered, joined in with all the enthusiasm he could muster. By the end of the meal, Harry and Hermione were laughing so hard, they almost fell out of their seats. 

Harry, Remus noted, had at least completely finished his meal, most likely prodded into it by Hermione. 

Once the meal was finished and the table cleared Remus spoke. “This afternoon I thought that you four might like to do me a favor and start cleaning the attic.”

The four teens glanced at each other briefly before nodding, somewhat reluctantly. Although cleaning was horrible for any teenager, they would do anything for Remus. 

Harry stood up. “Alright, I guess we should go ahead and get started then.” 

With that, the others followed the small form of their friend, eager to get the chore out of the way. 

Sirius smirked at Remus. “That was mean, Moony. Giving them chores during holiday….for shame!”

Remus rolled his eyes. “I just thought that if Harry spent some time up there, looking through the memorabilia, it might make him feel better.”

“And the purpose of inviting his friends to do work?” 

“They would have come up there minutes after he did,” Remus returned. “I just sped up the process.”

Sirius nodded and leaned back into his comfortable armchair. 

Remus shifted, the better to situate Sirius’ weight better. Really, didn’t the man know how to use a regular chair?

“Do you possibly think that you could get off me?”

Sirius grinned, strands of his blue-black hair falling into his eyes. “Nope, I’m comfortable. Though you’re bony knees do leave something to be desired.”

In return, Remus unceremoniously shoved him off his lap, ignoring Sirius’ cry of pain. 

“Could we get back to the discussion at hand?” he asked mildly, reaching for the now-crushed piece of chocolate, he had hidden in his waistcoat.

Sirius snatched it from him and shoved half in his mouth before giving the rest back to Remus.

“And that would be?”

Remus took a few moments to chew and swallow, he was raised properly, unlike a certain animagus, after all.

He glared. “The one we were having about Harry,” he reminded. 

Sirius licked his fingers, determined to get every bit of chocolate he could. 

Sometimes he could really understand why Remus was so addicted to it. Just the thought of Remus and chocolate together made him moan in delight.

“Don’t you have any table manners?” Remus snapped, amber eyes emitting a soft glow in his anger. 

“Nope,” Sirius finished wickedly, sucking his middle finger in a very familiar rhythm. 

Remus felt his face flush bright red, as well as a certain other region, and shifted in his seat. Of all the times to become aroused… 

“Would you stop that!?” 

Sirius paused mid-suck, wondering if he should push Remus any farther. Quickly he counted the days until the full moon. 

He grimaced at the fact that it was less than five days away.

He had better appease him soon, otherwise he’d definitely regret it.

Sirius made sure he had the last of the chocolate off his fingers, all the while eyeing Remus’ very interested stare, before turning and pouncing him, knocking the chair over in the process.

Some time later…

Straightening the chair, Remus finally took his seat and claimed a chocolate biscuit provided by the house elf.

Naturally, he’d had to promise them that they weren’t doing anything involving the rug near the fireplace and chocolate, before they’d agreed to appear in the room.

At that thought, Remus flushed vividly once again, remembering the elf’s face as she’d apparated, once again, during…it.

He’d never be able to look any of them in the eye again. 

Well, at least he’d gotten chocolate out of it.

“Have fun?” Sirius asked, a very smug smirk on his face. 

“You know very well that I did,” he responded promptly. “Now, could we finish our discussion?”

Sirius nodded affably. “All right. Where did we leave off?”

“Why exactly I decided to have them clean the attic.”

“Oh…So, why did you?”

Remus sighed and gave his lover a sad look. “Harry’s hurting, Siri. And we can only do so much. 

I thought I’d give him a chance to see old things of ours and Lily and James. 

He knows almost nothing about them. 

And, with his friends, they can make sure that he doesn’t get depressed over it,” Remus finished softly.

Sirius reached over and gripped his hand tightly. “Don’t worry, Moony. He’ll be all right. We’ll make sure of it.”

-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-

Hall of Prophecy, Department of Mysteries

Benjamin had been an unspeakable for over twenty years, a rather distinguished amount of time for his career.

Of average height and build, mousey brown hair, and hazel eyes, he had the perfect look for an Unspeakable. 

No one noticed him, while he noticed everything. 

During his career, he had seen many travesties and miracles, one of them being the Potter boy’s survival of the Killing Curse.

Upon hearing of this extraordinary event, he had requested an assignment in the Hall of Prophecy. 

This let him record the prophecies as they came in and interpret them.

Once they were interpreted, the written copy was sent to an office in the Department of Mysteries, while the actual prophecy itself was enchanted so that no one outside the Department of Mysteries, besides the subjects of the prophecies, was able to touch them. 

In addition to his regular duties, he’d used this assignment to locate the one that he was most interested in.

Within three months of signing on to the new position, he had located a prophecy that had been only whispered about in the Order of the Phoenix. 

This was, of course, the prophecy that had ended in the Potter’s downfall, and he had been interested in discovering exactly what it stated. 

It was during his viewing of it that he had noticed something…off. 

Hours upon hours of research later and he had determined that the prophecy was, in actuality, a false one.

He was not sure as to the creator, but he had a decent guess. 

Especially when he went through the Potter boy’s file and found Albus Dumbledore’s name on every piece of paperwork. 

Very suspicious, that.

This had lead Benjamin to ponder why exactly such a venerable wizard would not only fake a prophecy, but ensure that the child of the prophecy was placed with Muggles when he had several other suitable guardians. 

These thoughts had led him to believe that possibly there was another prophecy, one that Dumbledore had covered up by creating a false one. 

With this idea in mind, Benjamin had searched through every prophecy in existence. It had been tedious work; taking the time to reinterpret every single one, but it had finally paid off.

Finally, over a decade later, he was at the last prophecy. 

It had been hidden in the farthest corner behind two others, and if he had not caught a glimpse of it in the light, Benjamin knew he never would have seen it. 

Reaching out carefully, Benjamin picked it up and eyed the pale light shining out of the orb.

Just from glancing at it, he could tell that this was a very old prophecy, hundreds of years old. Benjamin frowned at the orb before making his way to his office. 

He would have to be careful with this one; he felt that it held a great secret, one that could change the future of the wizarding world.

-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-

The letter from Kingsley Shacklebolt to Albus Dumbledore was short and brief.

Sir, 

We have narrowed the location to within a five-mile radius. We should be through the wards within a week. I will send word when the attack is to take place.

Shacklebolt

Albus smiled as he burned the correspondence, ensuring that no one would be able to read it. 

Sighing, he reached into one of his drawers and pulled out an old photograph, wrinkled and tattered with age. 

In it were the four marauders, laughing as they stood in front of the Whomping Willow. He looked at their youthful faces, feeling an unusual sort of sadness at the fact that within a few years, one would be dead and another falsely imprisoned.

He shook his head and pushed the photograph back in the drawer. He could not focus on the past.

He’d done what he’d had to for the greater good. 

He had been forced by that blasted prophecy he’d found in the depths of the Hall of Mysteries.

At least he would soon have everything exactly the way it was supposed to be, with him as the ultimate power in the wizarding world.

End of Chapter 12! Please review and thanks to those who have!


	13. Chapter 13

  
Author's notes: Chapter 13  


* * *

Disclaimer: I do not own HP!

A/N: Wow! Thanks for all the reviews so far! Keep reviewing please! I promise most of your questions will be answered in the next few chapters!

Chapter 13

Petunia could not believe it. Not only had she dies in her sleep at a very healthy age, but she had done so after a very expensive visit to both the spa and the plastic surgeon. Over the course of her marriage her husband had grown more selective in his tastes, seeming to prefer the boy over her. 

Petunia sneered and crossed her arms. What a disgusting freak. She still could not believe that Vernon had preferred that over her. So, she had decided to do the sensible thing and improve herself.

She had gone to a series of lucrative places before finally finding one that would do exactly what she wanted without any unneeded questions or advice. Two tummy tucks, a series of botox injections, and a butt lift later and she was set.

The night before her death had been the final injection. And it had all been for nothing.

Petunia stared at the smooth wall, as she had been for hours, waiting for something to happen. She had been escorted here by an odd freak who had said nothing to her, even when she had screeched at him to bring her back to life. The prat had merely stuck its’ nose up in the air and ignored her.

He must not have known exactly who she was. That was all right, she supposed, she would make sure that he understood later. Petunia shivered as a cold wind whipped through the tiny window way above her head in the cell. 

She had arrived here in the clothes se had died in, namely a very flimsy, see-through nightgown she had worn in order to entice Vernon. Not that it had done any good, since he had spent a portion of the evening locked up in the freak’s room.

A sudden muted click caught Petunia’s ears, and she turned her head toward the side wall. This morning it had been entirely blank, but now she could see a crack making its way along the smooth rock. She stared at it a few moments before determining that it had taken on the outline of a door.

Petunia blinked. Well, this was rather odd. As soon as the crack ended its slow progressive journey another click was heard, followed by the creaking of the stone door as it slowly opened.

“Petunia Dursley, please stand and make your way to the door,” an imperious voice barked, causing Petunia to jump in fright as the voice resonated within her bones. Slightly shaking, she did as told, her previous bravery deserting her at the sound of such a voice.

Upon reaching the entryway, she was grabbed by two strong pairs of hands down the dark hallway and into a brightly lit room that made her squint as her eyes adjusted to the strong light. 

The room went on forever, as far as she could tell, and it felt like hours passed before she was finally dropped at the bottom of what looked to be a throne. Petunia blanched as she gazed at it.

The throne looked hideous. From a distance, it might have looked beautiful, all snow white stone, but up close she could see that it was made of bones. How utterly…barbaric. Petunia moved her gaze even higher and almost cried out in shock. For there, sitting on the throne was her dead sister, green eyes blazing in anger.

“But, you’re dead,” she whispered, forgetting for a moment that she was in the same position. Lily rolled her eyes. 

“Duh, I swear; I’ve been dead for years! You could at least have the courtesy to remember that, ‘Tunia!”

Petunia gazed at her sister’s face, still young, glowing with beauty, and felt envy. She had never looked like that when she was young.

“But why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be with your husband of yours, Perfect Potter?” Petunia snapped.

Lily shook her head. “They thought it would be easier if I came down and explained everything to you, since we’re sisters. Once you’ve been sorted out, I’m to go back.”

Petunia frowned. “Came down from where? What’s going on?”

Taking a deep breath, Lily absently ran her hand through her auburn hair, before focusing on her sister. “You are in limbo. I’m here to determine if you deserve to go to hell, or if you have repented.”

Petunia sniffed and crossed her arms. “Obviously, I am not going to hell. So, let’s go. Take me to heaven,” she said imperiously.

“It doesn’t work that way.”

“Why not?” Petunia demanded, feeling a spark of annoyance that her perfect sister didn’t do what she wanted. Lily should, after all, since she had raised her worthless son. “You’re a freak, you can do whatever you want!”

Lily’s face darkened in anger. “And that is the problem,” she hissed, anger darkening her eyes a vivid shade Petunia was all too familiar with.

 

“What’s the problem?”

“You’re hatred of anything to do with magic, including my son.”

Petunia glared at the infuriating form of her sister, and huffed in annoyance. It was always the same. Petunia did something or made an innocent remark, and Lily turned it completely around.

“I do not!”

“Yes, you do. And it’s all based on your fear of contracting my disease,” Lily spat, fingers clutching the throne. “And your jealously of the power.”

It was Petunia’s turn to glare, and she did so heatedly. “I am not.”

Lily rolled her eyes. “Whatever. It’s obvious you won’t admit it. You haven’t since I was eleven, and you treated my son like garbage because of your feelings.”

Abruptly, Lily stood up and began pacing in front of the throne, heels clicking against the stone as she moved back and forth. “So, I think I’ll let you in on a little secret,” she said, stopping in front of Petunia to stare deeply into her eyes.

“I wasn’t even sister. I wasn’t even a relative of any kind. I was adopted by your parents, after being dumped in an orphanage when I was only a day old.”

Petunia blinked in shock. Well, this was entirely unexpected. Then the shock turned to anger. “You mean I’ve been watching your bloody brat for no reason!”

Lily smirked. “Yes, you always did hate being charitable, didn’t you?”

“Well, why did I get the brat then? Shouldn’t he have gone to his real family?” Petunia asked haughtily.

“No one else knew. Great pains were taking to hide my true family, and I only found out a few years before my death. My greatest regret is that Harry didn’t get to know his grandfather.”

Petunia sniffed. “As if I care. At least I don’t have to deal with the brat anymore. So, can we just get on with it?”

Lily deeply sighed. “Every time I think you’ve reached the bottom of the pit, you somehow find a way to sink deeper. Alright then, it is my pleasure to inform you that you have not repented of your crimes, and shall be sentenced to Hell.”

Petunia gaped in shock as Lily snapped her fingers once, the echo bouncing in the spacious area. “You can’t do that!” she screeched, rushing forward to take hold of Lily’s arm.

Lily abruptly backed away, a small smirk on her lips. “I believe I can and I did. Though I never have believed in vengeance, I think I will enjoy what you have coming to you.”

Suddenly, a portal appeared in the space between them, and before Petunia could do more than gasp, a tall aristocratic man with long black and white hair with blue eyes stepped out and into the room.

“’Tunia, meet Orion Black. You might remember his son, Sirius, who attended my wedding.”

Oh, Petunia remembered Sirius all right. He’d been extremely charming at the wedding, and she had been more than attracted to the man until he’d revealed that he was a wizard. She’d publicly humiliated him, and he had retaliated by vanishing her hair and leaving her as bald as an egg for the remainder of the day.

“Well, I can see the family resemblance,” Petunia sneered. “What does he have to do with me?”

Lily rolled her eyes, but said nothing, even as the man moved forward and harshly gripped her arm, and dragged her into the portal. They emerged into a dimly lit hallway, and Petunia immediately tried to tug herself out of his grip.

“Wait! Where are you taking me?” she screeched, panicking now that any sense of familiarity had been ripped away from her. 

“Oh, they didn’t tell you?” Orion asked innocently. “You’re in Hell, and I’m your tormentor.”

Seconds later the information finally sunk in and Petunia’s screams echoed down the hallway.

-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-

Department of Mysteries…

Benjamin sighed as he slowly transcribed the prophecy onto paper. Surprisingly, this prophecy had been more difficult to interpret than others since it had been recorded in some strange dialect that he had only partially translated. 

It was slow going, but Benjamin refused to seek out one of his colleagues to get their opinion on the strange language. There were too many people in the department in Dumbledore’s pocket. He didn’t want anyone else to know of the prophecy.

Laboriously, he scratched out the previous word and replaced it with another, more obscure meaning. This would positively take forever.

Although he really shouldn’t have been surprised. The prophecy was extremely old, probably recorded before the founding of Hogwarts. In fact, if he didn’t know better, Benjamin would say that it came from the time of Merlin.

Now that would be a thought. Merlin had been a powerful seer, seeing events that were far into the future. This far, however, would be a record. The last prophecy from Merlin had gone into effect in the late 1700s when the French Muggles decapitated the king and queen.

With another heartfelt sigh, Benjamin got back to work, wondering how many hidden meanings the next word would have.

-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-

Sirius sighed in contentment as he leaned his head on Remus’ shoulders. It was night and supposedly the kids had gone to bed a little over an hour ago. Sirius wasn’t fooled. They were most likely still awake, causing quiet mayhem in their rooms.

Reclining against one of the many pillows on their bed, they both liked their comforts, Remus was contentedly reading a Muggle fiction novel. Sirius, on the other hand, was enjoying a Muggle comic book. And a rare edition at that.

With a brief sigh, Remus marked the page and closed his book. He glanced at his lover, who was currently smirking at one of the pictures. It was good to see him looking so happy for once.

“Did you finish the potion for Harry?” he asked quietly.

“What potion?” Sirius asked, shutting the comic book with a soft snap. Remus smacked him. “Ow, what was that for?” he whined, rubbing his arm.

Remus rolled his eyes in exasperation. “You know what for!”

“Oh, all right,” Sirius consented. “I think I’ve got it right. Harry’s testing it out tonight.”

Remus sat up straight in shock, amber eyes wide. “You’re giving him an untested potion!? Are you bloody insane? What if something’s wrong with it? What if he get’s poisoned? What if…?”

Sirius kissed him, silencing Remus’ hysterical protests. Remus replied with a soft moan, leaning back even further into the soft pillows as Sirius shifted his weight to lie partially on top of him.

The feeling of his lover’s wet warm tongue mapping out the inside of his mouth made Remus shiver in anticipation and arousal. Eagerly, he responded, hands moving up to Sirius’ shoulders. 

Eventually, Sirius broke away from the passionate kiss to look Remus squarely in the eye. Gently, he put a hand to Remus’ cheek, cupping it carefully. “Harry will be fine,” he said finally. “Because I know it works. I tested it on Snape myself,” he said proudly.

Remus gaped at his lover. “You what? How!?”

Sirius smirked, his blue eyes glinting in pride. “Slipped it in his pumpkin juice yesterday evening before supper. He was too distracted by Harry to even notice, and he looked fine this morning, so it must have worked.”

“You really are a master of your art,” Remus breathed, awe shining in his eyes. It reminded Sirius of Remus’ prankster side, which hardly ever showed, but was just as vicious as his own.

“Have to be,” Sirius said smugly. “To trick that git’s large nose. I figured that capitalizing on his crush for my godson would work perfectly.” Sirius frowned deeply. “Not that he’ll ever get close enough to do anything to my godson. Now, where were we?” 

Remus could only reply with another soft moan as he found himself being kissed once again.

-HP-HP-HP-HP-HP-

Next Day-Attic

Fred coughed as he climbed up the rickety ladder into the dusty old attic. Well, not so dusty anymore. They had been cleaning for several days, and if finally looked as if they were making a dent in the gigantic mess that was the attic.

Beforehand, boxes had been piled everywhere in a precarious heap while dust coated every object at least a centimeter or two thick. 

Now, half the boxes had been repacked, reorganized, and moved to sit against the walls, so as to clear out a space in the middle for them to work Still there was a lot to do. 

“Where to today?” George asked as he clambered up the ladder behind his twin. Fred wrinkled his nose and tapped his chin thoughtfully. “I say we should tackle the corner by the window.”

Hermione nodded in agreement, as she tossed her backpack full of parchment and quills to the floor. “That’s a good idea,” she said briskly, surveying the area. “I really don’t want to spend another day in constant darkness.”

Harry nodded, then pulled up the ladder behind him and shut the trapdoor. Together the group made their way to the next part of the attic, determined to get at least a decent part of it done today.

They set to it with a will, sending up a flurry of dust as they moved the boxes, swept the floor, and then, one by one, moved the reorganized boxes next to the window. 

It was an hour and a half later when Hermione opened a box and abruptly squeaked in shock. “Harry! Harry! Come see this!” 

Bemused, Harry hurried over, absently smoothing down his hair as he went. “What did you find?”

Hermione gestured at the open box. “I found this box. It’s full of your parents’ things.”

Harry gaped at her speechless. In all the excitement of the summer, he had not realized that he might come across his parents’ stuff. Logically, he knew it had to make sense since Remus and Sirius had been his parents’ best friends, but really…

“Wow, I guess I didn’t think that kind of stuff would be up here,” he said quietly, shocked beyond all belief. Hermione looked at him with a mixture of pity and happiness. Abruptly, she stood and brushed the dust off her jeans.

“Fred, George!” she called, taking their attention from the boxes they were halfway through. “Let’s take a break for a few minutes!” 

Within seconds, all three of them were clambering down the ladder, Fred and George only pausing briefly to give him questioning looks, before vanishing.

Left alone, Harry opened the box with a sigh, wondering what he would find. He dug through old textbooks, which were hilarious since his father had decided to draw amusing caricatures of other people. There was one of Sirius he could not stop laughing at.

He found old pictures of both his parents with other people, and watched as they each paused in the pictures to wave enthusiastically at him. He smiled briefly before setting them aside to take downstairs.

Harry dug through other old memorabilia before coming across a small dusty book bound tightly with an emerald green velvet ribbon. Untying it carefully, he gasped in shock when he opened it.

It was his mother’s diary, dated shortly after she left Hogwarts. Harry read the first few pages bemusedly before coming across an entry that looked as if had been written in haste. Wet splotches dotted the page, and suddenly Harry realized that it was tears. His mother’s tears.

31 October

Tonight was horrible. I cannot even find words to describe the events of this night. James went out with Siri on a late night pub crawl, eager to wash away the feeling of a long day at the office.

I couldn’t begrudge him that. Head Auror Moody had been particularly hard on them lately, what with their tendency to get into constant trouble.

I chose to stay at home and relax. The past few weeks had been difficult, with the Headmaster pressuring us to join his secret efforts to thwart the new Dark Lord.

I am completely against getting involved in the war, what with my husband on one side and my father on the other. I was all for staying in the house and not leaving.

I was only alone for a few hours when I felt someone enter the wards. I remember grabbing my wand and racing to the window. I relaxed when I saw that it was Albus.

I welcomed him in, expecting that he, once again, wanted to talk about his secret order. However, he only looked at me with a strange expression that I have never seen before.

I cannot describe what followed, it was too horrifying. I remember him hurting me when he knocked me to the floor. I remember when he violated me, reveling in my screams.

And I remember when he laughed afterwards and tried to Obliviate me before leaving. Thankfully, he didn’t realize that the spell was ineffective. I had always been able to throw off those kinds of spells.

I don’t know how long I sat on the floor in shock. I couldn’t believe that a man I had trusted with my life had done something so despicable.

Why? Why did he do it? What did I do to him? 

I have decided that I will never tell James. He wouldn’t be able to deal with the complete reversal of all his beliefs.

I wish I could safely contact my father. After all, as the Dark Lord himself, he would be able to protect me.

Lily

Harry gazed at the entry, face wet with tears. He could not believe that Dumbledore had done something so vile. He had probably used a charm on himself to do the act, Harry joked darkly to himself.

The part about Voldemort being his grandfather was surprising. If he wasn’t in shock, Harry probably would have fainted. As it was, he wondered whether the man knew about their relation. And if he did, all those years ago, why did he kill his mother?

Hand shaking, Harry turned the page. He needed to know what happened. He bent his head and continued to read. There were several pages where his mother recounted her horrors and her determination to not let his father know.

In several entries, she discussed the discovery of her parentage. Harry smiled when she said that an ancient charm had been used to track her lineage. Of course his mother would use a charm. As everyone had always told him, that had been her best subject.

It was with some small relief that Harry discovered that his aunt and uncle weren’t really his relatives at all.

He read as his mother spoke of her decision to not let anyone near her, including his father, which resulted in fights and days spent in stony silence. It was not until Harry read a journal entry dated the end of January that he felt his entire world stop. He could not believe it…

End of Chapter 13! Please review!


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